


A Ghostly Cry

by PAW_07



Series: Danny Phantom [1]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Dad Vlad, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Horror, Injury Recovery, Loss of Powers, Mystery, Pre-Season/Series 03, Secrets, Some Humor, Supernatural Elements, Supporting Original Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAW_07/pseuds/PAW_07
Summary: Danny loses everyone he loves when they are killed in a fire, leaving him to be taken in by his godfather, Vlad Masters. How will they survive each other and the vengeful demon that killed his family? It won't be easy, especially when everything isn't what it seems and Danny has no powers to help him deal with everything.





	1. Wicker Man

Welcome to a most haunting dream,

It tears, bites, and rips at me.

It takes all that I may ever be,

And leaves nothing but the ghost of me.

…

_Happiness …_

Her eyes seemed to flash, the light dancing across her features. Danny couldn’t help but blush as his eyes met Sam’s. With a nervous grin, he slowly inched a little closer to her on the bench and placed his quivering hand upon hers. Sam’s blush only grew as she drew nearer to him as well.

_Somehow, he had finally grasped it that spring under the falling blossoms …_

The flower petals danced in the air as a breeze kissed the tree in which they sat beneath. Sam’s hair blew in the wind in an enchanting way, and Danny slowly leaned forward, capturing her lips in his own. It tasted like forever… he was sure that this happiness he felt in his young heart would last forever.

_But, sadly, it would not last. _

…

“Danny!” called Jack as he walked through the Fenton house like a towering gorilla, his orange jumpsuit seemingly clashing with the rest of the colors in the room. “Where did you go?”

Jazz looked up from her Physiology books and sighed, her hair falling over her shoulders. Danny was out late again chasing ghosts. Of course, she would never tell her ghost-hunting-happy-parents that. The redhead tapped her fingernails on the table for a moment in thought. She needed a lie, yet that was going against her morals. The girl bit her lip … she could just omit parts.

“He’s with Sam and Tucker. Probably studying,” Jazz stated with a smile. She loved her occasional bouts of slightly sinister behavior, but she’d keep that to herself. She was trying to shape herself into a prime example of a good citizen and a proper peer.

“Well, that’s nice,” Maddie said as she entered the kitchen carrying a machine that looked oddly like Jazz’s hairdryer. A vein nearly burst in the teenager’s forehead as she tried to hold her tongue. She just got that one! The girl took a deep breath trying to find her calm place … She’d just get a new one.

“Studying will have to wait,” Jack bellowed, pointing his finger to the sky with a proclamation. “We have ghost hunting to do.”

“Jack, can’t it wait?” complained Maddie with a soft frown. She knew that Danny was failing science, and he could really use the study time. How was he supposed to carry on the family business if he didn’t excel in the necessities? 

“No!” cried Jack as he ran into the next room ready to grab his son … if his son was in the next room, that is. It didn’t take him long to finally realize he had no idea where his son was so he peered meekly back into the kitchen. “Um, Maddie where’s the Fenton Phone?”

“Where it always is,” Maddie smiled at her husband and was about to turn away, but Jack was still standing there with a look plastered on his face. The woman giggled and pointed in the general direction.

“On the wall dear,” cooed Maddie as she readied herself to head down to the lab. She really did love that man, but she could drool over him later. She had just found an uncharted section of the ghost zone and really couldn’t wait to check it out.

Jazz just rolled her eyes as she watched her parents peck each other before wandering in opposite directions, leaving the room silent once more. What her mother saw in dad she’d _never_ know. She could only hope that the saying wasn’t true when she started seriously dating: Every girl marries her father.

Physiology was a bit too painful sometimes.

…

That kiss ... it was wonderful and Danny really didn’t want to pull away, but he had to breathe sometime. So he finally pulled away. The two teenagers laughed slightly and were about to kiss once more when a scream interrupted their youthful romance, thrusting them back into reality. 

“Danny! Help!”

Danny and Sam were apart so fast that the word ‘light speed’ seemed slow and just in time too. There was the cracking noise through bushes and Tucker was suddenly jumping over the back of bench the two teens had been sitting on. Their friend quivered there for a moment, sitting between them with his glasses hanging off one ear. He looked panic-stricken.

The half ghost’s eye twitched and he used his pointer finger to lure Tucker towards him. The geek leaned in, Danny growling into the other teenager's ear, "Tucker ... I was in the middle of something important."

Tucker raised an eyebrow, looked between his two blushing friends, and slowly grinned. The two of them thought he didn’t know about their relationship. Please, not only was it a high school rumor, but he helped monitor both of their emails. How could he not know?

“What were you in the middle of?” asked the computer nerd as he grinned and straightened his glasses, completely forgetting he had been chased here. “Were you trying to finally get a smooch from Sam?”

Danny twitched, an embarrassed squeak escaping him. How did Tucker know? “N-no! Why would I be doing that to h-her. She’s like a sister ... No, not a sister! More like a friend that I would…”

Tucker rolled his eyes. Ah, the confession was always the hard part, but he’d mock Danny about that another day. He had bigger fish to fry… a fish with plasma guns to be exact.

“Um … Danny,” entered Sam’s voice, her blush disappearing as her gaze drew upward. And here she thought this situation couldn’t get any worse.

“I’d hate to interrupt you and Tucker’s bromance moment, but … RUN!” cried Sam as she jumped off the bench, barely dodging one of Skulker's nets as her body disappeared behind a tree. Yet, it seemed the hunter had already calibrated that move and the net slammed full force into the tree, knocking off dozens of white petals and splintering the bark. 

It didn’t take long for the girl to pop her head out of her hiding place and growl at the spirit jetpacking toward them. How dare he harm that helpless tree! Somehow, she resisted the urge to throw her spiky shoe at the hunter’s head. This was just getting stupid! Every time Danny and she had some alone time they were interrupted! She just wanted to kiss her _boyfriend_ ... uh, she meant boy who is a friend.

Danny, having jumped off the bench, sat up and saw that his new favorite bench had been shot to smithereens. The teenager rubbed his hand down his face in irritation before he bared his teeth at the perpetrator of his sanctuary. Skulker. Crazy, obsessed, Skulker. _Wonderful_.

In a flash of white light, he was the infamous Danny Phantom, falling petals scattering away from as he created a slight breeze with his transformation. Quickly, he pointed an enraged finger up at the spirit, unknowingly making a hero pose.

“Hey, you weren't invited to this shindig. No one likes a party crasher unless they are actually crashing! Eat plasmablasts!” hissed Danny as he threw a plasma blast, hitting Skulker straight in the chest. The sound of bending metal could be heard throughout the park as the ghost was slammed into the ground below, throwing clumps of dirt everywhere as he slid to a halt. The teenager stared stupidly for a moment … he wasn’t even aiming. It was just blind rage.

The hunting ghost lay in his hole in the earth for a moment, gathering his composure, until he was able to rebuke, “Irritating whelp, I wasn’t ready.”

Skulker then pulled himself out of the dirt, dented armor and all. He dusted himself off as if he had all the time in the world before jumping into the air, jet pack wheezing. The hunter couldn’t help but smile, even though he had already taken a hit. Danny Phantom was his favorite prey to hunt, and he seemed to be in an aggressive mood today. Mating season did that he supposed. Yet, just because the halfa was his favorite prey didn’t mean Skulker was going to go easy on him.

The huntsman turned his jetpacks on to full speed and before the teenager could even blink, Skulker made a full onslaught attack towards the phantom boy. “Time to die prey!”

Before the ghost could even land a punch, divine intervention presented itself: in the form of a ringing cellphone. In fact, the entire scene froze as if someone had just hit the pause button. The hunter grumbled before pulling out a cell phone; the three humans all simultaneously doing the same thing, checking to see if it was their phone.

“Is that me?” Danny stammered as he fumbled to de-ghost his pants in order to get his cell phone.

“I think it’s my planner!” chirped Tucker excitedly as he jumped from his hiding place behind a tree. He had just got it yesterday and was dying to use it.

“It might be my new camera phone,” stated the girl in a rather drawl voice. She really didn’t want the stupid thing in the first place. Her parents had insisted and she swore there was a tracking device in it.

“Hello?” The group echoed in a chorus as they all answered their phones at the same time.

“Not me,” Sam answered as she slammed her camera phone shut and stuffed it into her pocket as quickly as she possibly could. If anyone saw that expensive thing they’d know she was born into money. The last thing she needed was Dash hitting on her. She cringed at the thought and resisted the urge to throw up in her throat.

“Ah man!” whined Tucker as he stared at his screen. He really needed to get some more friends so that he’d have plenty of calls, but that could wait until later. 

“Hello,” answered Skulker in a confused sort of way as if having his cell phone ring was extremely strange. The ghost frowned as an annoying voice echoed in his ear, “No, this is Skulker. How did you get this number? What? Ok! You don’t have to yell … just a minute.”

Skulker stared at Danny for a moment as if trying to decide if the teenager was trustworthy enough to return his mobile device. Then, despite his distrust, the ghost thrust the phone into Danny’s chest hoping it would leave a bruise, “It’s for you.”

The teenager gasped for breath as he pulled the object out of his gut. He then stared at the device wearily. Who was on the phone? Was it Plasmius? No, that vampire wanna-be would want to brag in person. Swallowing, Danny put the phone to his ear and whispered, “Hello?”

“Danny! Is that you?” Danny jumped in shock as Jack’s voice screamed over the receiver. His dad sounded excited. Had he been chewing on coffee beans again?

“Dad? How did you get this number?” Danny questioned as he turned away from the ghost who was now floating over his shoulder, trying to overhear the conversation. The teenager hissed at the ghost and tried to have his conversation in peace. There was nothing more irritating than a snoopy ghost.

“That's not important! Get over to the Fenton Ghost Portal ASAP! You’re going to flip when you see what we found,” Jack cowed in a happy tone. Danny was now positive that his father was jumping up and down right now, and the mental image disturbed him. Why couldn’t he have normal, boring parents?

The teenager sighed at the pending parental drama and grumpily hung up, handing the phone back to the hunter.

Skulker, taking the phone, put it away and started cracking his knuckles. "Ready to restart our battle, whelp?”

“Sorry, Skulker. We’ll have to do this another time,” Danny stated as he started to float away. He really wanted to punch something after his ruined date, but anything involving the Ghost Portal and his dad worried him. 

The hunter lost his excited grin and was about to demand his epic battle, but one sour glare from the boy killed the mood. 

“Fine, ghost child. Another time. I wanted to finish cooking that casserole anyway,” Skulker growled, turning on his jet pack and flying away, a stream of smoke following after.

There was always tomorrow… there was always tomorrow. 

Sam, watching the ghost fly away, asked sarcastically, “I don’t know what’s more disturbing: you letting Skulker go or the fact that Skulker knows how to cook a casserole.”

…

The three teenagers stopped dead in their tracts as they stared up at the Fenton house. There was just something eerie about it. All the lights, even the Fenton sign, were dead ... except for an odd green glow that was obviously coming from the basement.

“Um … Danny?” finally asked Sam. “Are you sure we want to go in? We can just say Tucker choked on a chicken bone again and go hang out at my house." 

"Hey," defending the meat-eater. "That happened one time and the EMT dislodged it before we even got to the ambulance."

Danny just rolled his eyes and opened the front door, trying not to twitch as a haunting miasma actually rolled out the front door. He might have been worried if his ghost breath had activated, but it hadn't yet. 

"It's probably nothing," said Danny simply, mostly to calm the feeling of dread that was forming in his gut. "Dad probably just blew the breaker or something. Let's go in."

The three teens had barely made it into the front door, the feeling of dread spreading, before a voice echoed from the gloom, making all three of them jump.

"Oh good, you made it home, Danny. Dad was going to send a search party if you didn't show up soon," said Jazz, standing on the steps leading down to the basement. She had on one of mom's jumpsuits, her whole form outlined in a green glow from below. Something was down in the basement. 

Coughing into his hand, trying to ignore the goosebumps forming on his arms, Danny asked, "What's going on? Why do you have one of mom's jumpsuits on? And why is the house so ... horror movie-esk?"

Jazz frowned, shrugging, "Mom told me to put it on ... something came out of the Ghost Zone, and it’s taking all of the house’s energy to keep the portal open. You should come downstairs Danny ... its ... odd."

“I doubt anything that comes from the Ghost Zone isn't odd,” joked Tucker behind Jazz’s back, the teenager's all following after the older girl. Danny felt his stomach sink further, his ghost breath causing a chill to run down his spine. 

…

Odd was an understatement.

Where the ghost portal usually dwelled hovered a huge orb of soft green light, which folded in on itself in a technical dance of fireless-flames. It was like looking into a miniature sun … minus the going blind part. There was also a soft humming which could be heard and felt throughout the room as smaller ghostly orbs circled the enchanting ball of light. It almost looked like something was in the middle of the whole thing, but Danny couldn't quite make it out. Not that it mattered. This thing had to be dangerous and it needed to be shoved back into the Ghost Zone. _Now_. 

“Dad,” questioned Danny as he tried to still his shaking arms, his ghost breath activating again and again as he stood there. “How did you find this? It seems dangerous.”

The closer he got to it, the more unsettling it became. 

Jack looked at his boy with a shocked expression for a moment before he patted his boy on the shoulder. “Don’t worry son. Ghost's are only dangerous if you don't have a Fenton bazooka ... and we have three."

Danny gave his father a dull look, rubbing his arms as his ghost breath continued to chill him. He just wanted to get this pending ghost attack over. Standing here waiting was unnerving. "Whatever you say, dad."

“Now, let's just get on the Fenton Gauntlets and contain this ecto-anomaly. Your mom is making pancakes for supper and you know how I feel about breakfast for supper?" joked the large man as he put on his gauntlets, patting his son on the shoulder once more before he walked up to the ball of light.

"Umm, dad. Maybe you shouldn't-" started Danny, but Jack was already reaching a hand out towards one of the small orbs that circled around the anomaly. Danny’s heart nearly stopped as he watched the small ball of light pass through his father’s hand like a tiny spirit. It was as if the gauntlets couldn't even touch it. 

“Hmm, that's odd," said Jack, confused.

The confusion didn't last long though when suddenly the large orb in the middle seemed to throw out a wave of light, making every test tube in the room rattle. The inhabitants of the basement stared in awe as the green like started to dim, revealing that the huge orb was actually hollow and that there was something else inside.

"Well, that can't be good," said Maddie as she stepped up next to Jack, the two adults watching as the fading light finally revealed that there was a golden box inside the orb. It glimmered like molted gold, taunting the mortals to come nearer and claim it.

It was easy to say that no one could look away from the haunting object … not even Danny, and then there was a click. There was a lock on the golden box and the lid was slowly opening, a red light now filling the room. Everyone in the room stilled as the box opened, the stillness interrupted as a voice rang out.

“_A mortal's hand has awakened me ... __I’ll bring you War and nothing more.”_

A twitch escaped Danny as if all his ghost powers had just tried to shy away from the voice. The boy's hands quickly became fists as dread settled in his stomach. Just what he needed: another boxed ghost.

Danny threw a quick glance around the room to see if he could go ghost. Everyone was still entranced, but before Danny could jump behind the nearby table, the box burst open completely ... spilling out flames as if it were a liquid from the sea as the golden box fell onto the floor. There was only enough time to capture a shocked breath when the remaining orbs all caught a-flame, exploding like magma-filled light bulbs.

The inhabitants of the room all screamed in surprise, everyone stumbling away from the spreading flames grasp. There wasn't even time for anyone to run to the stairs or get the fire extinguisher because the flames now seemed alive, rushing in front of everyone and blocking the stairs. It was as if the flames were alive and were entrapping its victims. Soon, the fire was everywhere and it obviously wanted a taste of human flesh.

“Run kids!” cried Maddie as she tried to get to a fire extinguisher on the wall or at least the weapons cabinet. There had to be something in here that she could protect her family with. There had to be, but … the redhead suddenly stopped. She felt her heart seize up as she watched the flames start to take a human shape, like a flaming skeleton trying to grow flesh.

Then, just like that, it flung a boney-flaming hand from its golden box prison and grabbed Jack by one of his ankles. The large man fell to the floor with a thud, cracking his jaw. Jack barely had time to blink before he was dragged towards the center of the flames. He only had enough time to give Maddie one last glance before he was pulled into the flames, his cry of agony echoing in the room.

Maddie stood there, in shock, a lone tear falling down her cheek. She was so distracted, she didn't even see the wave of fire sneak up behind her, throwing itself over her like a wave. She was dead before her charred corpse hit the ground, smoke pouring off her form. The only thing that wasn't charred was her wedding ring, its slightly blackened metal glinting in the firelight before the fiery figure in the middle of the chaos drug her in as well, seemingly consuming her and gaining more flaming flesh. 

“Mom! Dad!” screamed Jazz, the girl shaking her head as she tried to back up. 

Danny, his breath catching, couldn't believe what had just happened. This had to be a nightmare. It just had to be! He couldn't even will his feet to move, the shock too much. He didn't even see a wall of flames forming behind him, rising like a growing shadow.

Jazz did though.

With a cry, his older sister violently pushed him out of the way and to the floor away from the fires’ grasp. This did not stop the flames, of course. They merely gained a new target. Jazz was only allowed to give her little brother a frightened look as her delicate frame was dragged into its molten grave by an unknown hand. Danny was frozen on the floor ... he couldn’t even cry out her name.

This couldn't be happening!

The half-ghost’s gaze was quickly pulled away from where his sister once stood and back to the golden box. A blackened song had started to play as if it was a malevolent music box. A Pandora’s Box. It was spreading flames faster now, like a flood. Yet, that was the least of Danny’s problems when a fire riddled hand suddenly sprang out of the box, grasping the sides as if a person was slowly pulling themselves out of a bathtub.

Soon there was a skull and upper shoulder free from the box, the form's nearly fleshless jaw spread wide and screaming out silently. Then, with a sickeningly slow pace, it pulled itself out of the box, its bones bending and contouring abnormally until it was finally able to squeeze out of the shoe-box sized container; its form falling to the floor in an exhausted manner as if it had just been born.

The flaming form didn't rest long before it was stumbling to its feet, a flaming foot finally standing proudly on the tiles. The flaming bone-like figure merely stood there a moment, looking at its hands before they became fists. Then, lolling its loose jaw, the figure threw its head back and released a roar as if in conquest.

Danny, still in shock, only reacted when Sam grabbed his shoulder. He could see the fear and pity in the girl's eyes. She, as well, had just seen his entire family die. Nonetheless, her voice creaked, "Danny, do something!"

Swallowing, his mind pushing back everything that had just happened as if it wasn't real, the boy yelled, “I’m going Ghost!”

“Time to take you out, you fire hazard,” barked Danny as tears streamed down his cheeks in a feverous manner. This wasn't happening! This wasn't happening! 

Not knowing what else to do, the half-ghost threw himself forward in an attack that would have devastated most of his enemies, but not this one. The flaming figure merely swiveled to the side grabbing Danny by his right arm with the speed and agility of a god. The flames immediately started to feast away at the ghost boy’s flesh, a sickening burning smell filling the air.

The halfa quickly panicked because of the sudden rush of pain and tried to phase through the hold … but nothing happened. His arm merely shivered in a weak way like his powers were being drained. The teenager wasn’t even allowed a moment of confusion as he screamed out in pain; the flaming beast had tightened his grip, causing the flames to bite deeper into the boy's flesh, into the muscle. The halfling continued to struggle despite the growing level of pain … he had to live. He just had too!

“Let go!" screamed Danny, trying to punch the figure with his free arm.

The figure did not release him though, it instead drew in close, seeming to drink in the ghostly glow of Danny's ghost form. Immediately, Danny Phantom felt his strength fading. Unable to fight the sapping of his powers, Danny's eyes rolled into the back of his head, the boy hanging there like a piece of meat from the flaming being’s grasp.

The figure’s forming black eyes seemed to glimmer at this, shark-like teeth taking on a boney smile as a blood-chilling chuckle formed in its throat, "_Curious creature, aren't you? I suppose you will do._" 

Danny could barely acknowledge those words, his sight starting to dim as the pain in his arm increased, his ghost form flickering. He was going into shock. The cries of his friends seemed almost silent as he stared into the fire demon’s eyes, those black, dead eyes. It was then that he realized: this was the end. He couldn’t save anyone. Not even himself.

“Danny, help us!” echoed the final cry of his friends, Danny's head lulling to the side as the world went dark, swallowed up by smoke.

…

Meanwhile, outside, a ghostly eye with bat-like wings watched in the distanced as the Fenton house was encased by flames. It burned and crumbled like a wicker man. Sacrifices of flesh included.

Then, as if on summons, the fire trucks finally roared around the corner, tires squealing in distress, but they were too late. There didn't seem to be anything left to save. No one could do anything now but watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really old fic that I'm revising. It was my first multichapter fanfction and I'll always have a soft spot for it in my heart. 
> 
> Anyway, I love the plot but the timeline is janky. Nothing terrible, but I originally started it before the Ultimate Enemy came out. (I told you it was old.) So, I'm incorporating that slightly into the plot, but for the most part, this all happens before Dani shows up. So, basically, pre-season three.


	2. Yellow Briefcase

He was cold despite the blistering temperature. He felt so numb inside. It was as if the world had died around him, falling away into ash and sand. The boy twitched in his skin at the thought. What was happening? What was that buzzing in his ear? Were those sirens?

The teenager’s fuzzy mind wasn’t allowed to dwell on this when his heart skipped a beat as he felt the strength of two strong arms wrap themselves around his shoulders, slowly pulling him from his world of ash and soot. The boy couldn’t help it, he let out a small gasp as the arms grazed his burnt limb. With the wave of pain, Danny suddenly realized that he was hurt, that his entire body was aching, yet … he didn’t care. He just wanted to fade back into the darkness and listen to its lustrous whispers.

The young fireman nearly jumped out of his jacket as the corpse he had just dug from under the rubble whimpered, a soot-covered hand grasping onto his jacket slightly. The man’s breath caught as he stared at the teen in his arms … at least he had thought the boy was a corpse. Quickly, the fireman pulled his heavy, yellow glove off with his teeth and put his revealed fingers to the body’s blackened neck. He nearly dropped the teenager when he felt a small thump from the child’s heart.

The hero choked on his words for a moment before he was finally able to yell, “Hey, this one’s alive!”

“Someone’s alive!” came a collection of voices.

Danny gave no reaction as several pairs of heavy boots surround him, a gloved hand quickly lifting his head and carefully placing an air mask over his face. With the wave of fresh air, the half-ghost no longer wanted to fade into the darkness. He wanted to scream out, wanted to claw and kick and dig back into the soot. He wanted to do something, but all he could do was silently listen to the fire rage on as he was slowly carried away to some new destiny.

…

Maybe it had been a few hours or a few minutes. His mind was far too foggy to care, but the darkness was dripping away, melting like ice sickles near the end of winter. He could taste every breath, feel the soft blankets beneath him and smell the antiseptic, but there was not a sound. The icy silence was overwhelming inside the hospital ward. There wasn’t even an echo in the pristine place to distract him from the truth that whispered like so many insects in his head. Danny wanted to run, run away from this drowning nightmare. Whatever this nightmare was…

With a raspy inhale, Danny readied himself to move, fingers twitching, but the sudden stinging and burning in his arm told him otherwise as he drew in a sharp breath. As far as his body was concerned, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m …glad… he’s okay,” said a deep, rich voice that came from outside Danny’s room.

At the noise, the teenager managed to open one of his eyes and glare at the light that was coming from outside of his room. His eyelids felt so horribly heavy, yet he could just make out two men through his murky gaze. One was clearly the doctor with his white coat, yet it wasn’t him that was speaking. Another person was talking … someone in black. He seemed rather nervous and stiff for some reason, his fingers constantly moving into and out of a fist.

“Well, _okay_, might be an understatement. He has…”

The doctor was interrupted by the other figure, the man seeming almost desperate as he spoke, “Where’s Maddie? Maddie Fenton. The boy’s mother?”

The healer was still for a moment, his clipboard falling to his side as he seemed to search for the right words. A silence was allowed to creep into the ward before the healer’s voice came softly in a comforting manner and yet was sickeningly professional, “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you but… the boy was the only one. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The tall figure’s proud shoulders slumped forward at the news and Danny vaguely watched as the doctor reached outward with a steel grip and grabbed the man in black who looked like he was about to collapse. Then, whispering something about sitting down, the doctor-led the distressed man to a nearby chair, sitting down next to him as he continued to talk to the distraught figure.

Perhaps it was due to some drug, exhaustion, or maybe he just felt he shouldn’t pry into another’s misery, but Danny slowly closed his eyes wanting to see no more of this tragedy. The sound still carried though and the last thing Danny heard was the man’s soft sobbing as the healer tried to comfort him. It was such a sad sound from one who seemed so proud.

…

Vlad’s shoulders slumped forward as the doctor’s grave news set in. He let the misery of a thousand lost lovers wash over him like a flood from winter snows, cold and gripping. After the silence was allowed to pass, Vlad pulled his head out of his hands, his eyes sunken and cheeks wet even though no more tears dared reveal themselves in the presence of another being.

Rubbing his hands together, refusing to look at the aging healer, he whispered, “Dr. Webking. Tell me … what happened? I've had nothing but rushed explanations since I've gotten here.”

Webking frowned. Mr. Masters had nearly collapsed a moment ago; perhaps telling him something so disturbing wasn’t the best thing to do but there was this electricity in the air, a power that was meant to be feared. It was as if the man before him was something more than human… stronger than a normal man. He could take the pain.

Swallowing, the doctor closed his eyes, nodding as he relented. 

Looking at his shoes for a moment, collecting his thoughts, the healer turned towards Masters and met the other’s gaze, his voice professional. “We haven’t been given many specifics, but there was an accident in the Fenton’s Lab. The entire house caught aflame from there. There was a lot of equipment so the current speculation is that it was a laboratory accident … Also, in the basement, they found two males and three females who were … burned alive. Danny was the only survivor.”

Vlad swallowed his sorrow, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, his breath catching in his chest at the cold professional words. The doctor seemed generally concerned, but the words were so distilled like the atmosphere of the hospital ward around them. The millionaire swallowed again, his hands becoming fists with his nails digging into his palms. His first and only love was gone. Yet … his mind wavered on _the boy_ for a moment. The child had repeatedly been a thorn in Vlad's side, dragging Maddie from his warm embrace to the point that she actually detested him. He wanted to laugh. It seemed that the other halfling would finally feel the misery of loss that he had felt since he lost his true love. The boy would feel the bite of loneliness, its desperation … its misery. He would know pain.

Frowning, the man realized what he had just thought. The boy was alone… just like he had been for so long. Vlad was no true hero. He was conniving and criminal at times, but he was not a heartless man. He would never wish his fate on another person. So, despite himself, he sighed and asked, “Have you told him?”

“Who?” Webking asked as he gave the billionaire a confused look.

“The boy, Danny?” said Vlad in a tight yet collected voice as he tried to still his hands by wrapping his fingers together. He was struggling to be collected, professional almost. He didn’t want the doctor to see his rage and sorrow at the thought of the deceased maiden. His love for her was no one else’s business, especially since he could just imagine the rumors.

“No, not yet. He hasn’t regained consciousness since the firemen found him at the scene. Plus,” the doctor said the next sentence with care; the man before him was sure to crack like a fragile glass tool despite his outward act, “we are afraid such information would worsen his condition.”

“What do you mean by worsen?” murmured the billionaire as he glared in the direction the boy was resting in. He was sure Danny escaped mostly uninjured because of his ghost powers, but it seemed that he was very wrong. It was only a wonder of what was wrong with him now. Was the child’s entire body charred and blackened, or was it just a head injury or something equally insignificant? Either way, he couldn’t find it in him to ask, his voice threatening to crack and reveal the emotions that were trying to bubble past his collected mask. Maddie was gone. Maddie could never be his. All that was left of her… was the boy.

Mr. Webking looked down at Danny’s charts which he had laid on the seat next to him when he had helped Masters to a chair. He knew Vlad Masters wanted to know what was exactly wrong, but he couldn’t muster the strength to ask, so Webking answered the un-asked questions for him.

“Danny’s right arm was severely burned. He had smoke inhalation, and he is recovering from shock. He needed a few stitches from when … the roof collapsed, but the largest problem was that arm. Lots of skin and some muscle was burned away, but with surgery, we were able to save the arm. He will need a few skin grafts but will probably be able to regain most of his reflexes … if it doesn’t become infected that is.” Vlad nodded at this and Webking continued, “Danny will need some rehabilitation once the graphs take and the wound heals over, but the biggest concern now is his mental state. After all, he did lose his family and friends all in one day. It will not be easy for him.”

Masters nodded again, forcing himself to swallow a huge lump lodged in his throat so he could ask calmly, “What’s going to happen to him now?”

“Rehabilitation, like I …”

“No, no,” said the billionaire in a slightly irritated manner. “… I mean, where does he go after the hospital? I knew the family. Neither really had any close relatives.”

Vlad’s hands shook slightly at the thought as he looked back at the floor and away from the doctor. The situation was unnerving. Why was he even here? Shouldn’t he be running back home to lick his wounds? Everything he had fought so hard for was gone, leaving him without an anchor to his world. What should he do now? What could he do? He never would like to admit it, but being half-ghost meant that you had to have something that kept you to this world, an obsession, a need. His had been Maddie… now what?

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” asked the healer with a raised brow, his graying hair rather evident as he shifted in the artificial light. Vlad merely looked at the doctor with a sorrowful expression. He had no idea what the healer meant; a miscommunication was defiantly taking place here.

The good doctor merely sighed at Vlad’s confusion and started to rub his brow as if a headache was coming on. Vlad Masters was in for one hell of a surprise.

“Maybe you should talk to the Fenton’s lawyer, Mr. Smith. I believe he was wandering around the waiting room, hitting on passing nurses, as he waited for you to arrive,” said Webking with a bit of distaste before a sad smile came over his features and he offered a hand in the direction the lawyer was located. “He has a yellow briefcase, can’t miss him.”

Vlad didn’t move, merely nodding the doctor off as took this time to think, his legs were so heavy just like his heart. Maddie was gone. He wished he could look for her in the Ghost Zone in some feeble hope that she had remained behind, but he knew better. She had no unfinished business. She left nothing but a boy behind.

…

Forever seemed to pass for Vlad in that hospital chair. The air seemed stale like all the life had been sucked out of the place … or maybe all the life had merely been sucked out of him making all the air he breathed stale. Yet, he was not allowed his silent misery when a square-built man walked down the hall with a slight hum on his lips, only to stop before the mourning billionaire. The man’s shadow only had to linger over Vlad’s world for a moment before the halfa looked up. The stranger had a sly face like that of a fox with slicked-back black hair which was all pulled together with a black suit. He seemed unearthly … Of course, everything in the hospital seemed that way right now.

“Hello,” said the stranger in a cheery, telemarketer way as he offered a handshake to the half-ghost. “I’m Rodger Smith. The Fenton’s, well I was, the Fenton’s lawyer.”

Vlad pulled his head completely up, stray hairs falling to the side as he glared at the intruder. This man was far too calm and perky for this situation, but lawyers weren’t human so he shouldn’t be surprised. Despite his will to punch the man for daring to be happy in his presence, he shook his hand. It was not wise to punch lawyers.

“I’m so glad you got here so quickly. This is a most eager situation. Well …” Smith looked through the door staring at the resting boy. Vlad followed his gaze only to look away when he got a look at the teenager’s pale face, “It is a most eager situation for him.”

Mr. Smith continued to softly smile at the shaken man. When it finally became obvious that Vlad wasn’t going to move, Smith sat next to him while opening his yellow briefcase. The lawyer slowly pulled out a folder that had a small picture of Danny clipped to the side.

“As you already know, Danny is now an orphan,” said the man simply like this was just any other conversation, yet the words dug deep into Vlad's heart. A part of him he thought dead was waking up and he _hated_ it. 

“He has no relatives except for an aunt. She lives in the boonies somewhere, and I haven’t been able to contact her. Plus, I doubt she has the resources to raise a child. So that leaves you.”

The billionaire twitched in his skin, perking up before he asked, “What do I have to do with Danny?”

‘_Except the fact we are both part ghost’_ thought Vlad bitterly.

Smith didn’t even skip a beat as he added, “Everything. Jack, the gods rest his soul, had a Will.”

A slick piece of paper found its way out of the yellow briefcase and into Vlad’s fingers like some type of Holy Grail. The bachelor noticed Jack’s chicken-scratch signature at the bottom of the paper immediately.

“His Will had you, Vlad Masters, as Danny’s Godfather.”

Vlad nearly choked on his tongue as he dropped the paper, the sheets scattering like doves in a park. His eyebrow twitched as he looked directly at the smiling lawyer. He then grabbed the lawyer by his shirt collar and growled, “His Godfather! Cheese-crisps! You must be joking? I _hated_ Jack. Why would he trust me enough to raise his only son?”

Smith’s smile didn’t even crack at the news or the fact that Vlad had him by the neck of his shirt.

“Well, either Jack was a very forgiving man or very stupid,” said the lawyer as he quickly pried off Vlad’s fingers and grabbed the Will off the floor before Vlad could reread it. He then threw it in his briefcase and slammed it shut. “Now, if you are worried about money. The Fenton’s-”

“I’m not worried about money. I have more than enough,” growled the half-ghost. Did he look poor? Certainly not! His shoes alone nearly cost two-thousand dollars and they weren’t even his most expensive pair. So why was that lawyer thinking … Vlad’s thoughts came upon a sudden realization and before he could help himself, he whispered, “But what if I don’t want too?”

“To what, raise Danny?” said Smith, raising an eyebrow as if not wanting Danny was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“Well,” added the lawyer coldly, “because he’s a minor he’ll end up in the system, likely an orphanage. And since boys his age have trouble finding homes, he’ll probably spend the rest of his childhood there.”

At those words, Vlad’s back tightened as if he had just been slapped in the face. Mr. Smith let the truth sink into the bachelor's skull for a moment before he pulled out a smooth black pen with a pile of papers.

“What are those for?” asked Vlad in shock, when in truth he knew what they were for. He just couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be, but it was. He had wanted Daniel as a student for ages because he had been sure he’d get Maddie with the deal, but after so many irritating interludes from the child, he wasn’t sure he wanted the boy around anymore.

“I think we both know,” said the man with his fox-like grin. “These are Danny’s adoption papers.”

Vlad couldn’t stop himself as he took the papers, the material clinging to the rough skin of his fingers. A look of pure terror quickly filled his eyes yet he couldn’t look away from the delicate printing on the pages as if it were whispering to him. Mr. Smith watched Vlad for a minute before he closed his case and stood up. He then looked Vlad straight in the eye and said, “You don’t have to sign them right now. Get some rest and think it over. I know you’ll make the right choice in the end.”

Vlad, for the first time in his life, had nothing to say.


	3. Misery Loves Company

Vlad found himself incredibly tired as if the sandman himself had beaten him over the head with a baton. It was his own fault, of course, having worked himself into the ground lately with business and schemes alike. Not that that matter. It still didn’t answer why he was in this situation. Maybe he couldn’t take the squeak of shoes or the silent stares of people passing by. Maybe the lights were too bright out there in the hall. Or maybe… he didn’t want people to see him weep over a lost love and a life unlived. The cationic boy was unable to mock his misery.

So, he had spent the whole night next to the ailing boy, tears streaming from his cheeks despite not making a noise except for a soft sob here or there. And when he was too exhausted to weep, he would stare at the papers that damn lawyer had given him. In fact, the older halfa was still clutching the pen tightly in his hand, the pen threatening to snap. Half of him wanted to punish Danny right now for being _useless_ to Maddie while the other half wanted … what did he want?

He wanted Maddie.

She may have rejected him, but he wanted her so badly. She was the life left unlived. Now, he had nothing currently. Just a boy with a hero complex that had finally failed him.

Vlad wanted to be angry, enraged. He wanted to shake the boy for not saving her or maybe just smother the child with a pillow. A useless action, he knew. The child irritated him but was hardly worth such pains. Masters had never truly tried to kill the kid, so why start now? Especially if the fire wasn’t an accident. Many shifty characters came through the Fenton's ghost portal ... and if that was the case, there would be blood.

Turning away from such thoughts, Vlad looked down at the teenager asleep in the bed. Yes, Danny would tell him if someone had done this, and while he was on thoughts of the boy… what of the papers? Once upon a time, he had wanted the teenager as an apprentice, but after the younger halfa had denied him he hadn't given it much thought. It was like he had that same opportunity, but now the boy had no option in the matter. The real question though was not if the teenager would react badly, but if Vlad even wanted to try and deal with the boy.

Vlad didn’t get very far in his self-exploration though when suddenly his thoughts were intruded by soft footsteps. He looked up, angry at whoever had interloped on his emotional sanctuary.

“Hello?” said one of the attending, male nurses as he peered around the corner of the doorway and into the room like a disembodied head. "Is someone in here?"

Vlad immediately tried to wash away the sneer on his lips. He had an image to uphold after all. 

The nurse finally entered when Vlad waved him in, his starched-stiff scrubs singing as he walked across the room and over to the side of Danny’s bed. The name ‘Thomas’ was on his nametag. The man loved his job ... you could tell by the way he basically skipped across the room and his smiling-fish scrubs, a soft hum echoing from him as he opened a cluster of drawers on the far wall.

The bachelor already hated the man ... no one should be that happy while Vlad was this miserable. 

Thomas, completely oblivious, when to work placing his collection of tools onto a nearby rolling tray, pushing it towards Danny’s bed a second later. The happy nurse looked at the youth’s chart quickly to make sure he had the right patient, and then stated calmly to Vlad, “I’ll be changing his bandages. You can leave if you want. A burn isn’t the most pleasant thing to look at.”

The billionaire made no attempt to move so Thomas grabbed the tube belonging to Danny’s IV and injected the necessary medication. Vlad flinched as the needle sparkled menacingly in the artificial light. How he hated needles! Years in the hospital had taught him that much.

Thomas paid no mind to Vlad’s twitch as he gently pushed aside Danny’s sheets revealing his damaged arm, the bandages red-tinged as they were removed.

The skin that wasn't burned was badly bruised before it moved downward becoming something akin to burnt steak. The nurse sighed, treating the arm like a crystal vase. Vlad could only swallow as he stared at the gruesome sight. The skin in some places looked as if it had been scratched off with a cookie cutter, while the rest was blackened and swelling… fluids seemed to be oozing everywhere. There was also a delicate row of black stitches running down the arm, giving the skin an even more freakish look. Vlad quickly looked away in disgust; a part of him was getting ill at the sight alone.

Finally noticing the magnitude of Vlad's distress, the nurse decided to distract him. In a calm manner, the nurse spoke, a sad smile etched on his face, "So, I heard you’re taking Danny in. Its good to know he's not going to end up in the system." 

The billionaire forgot his queasiness and looked up at the nurse in surprise.

“Who told you that?” asked Vlad as he was overcome with vexation. He was a man that valued his privacy so there was no viable reason that this nurse should know about such a personal affair.

“Nurses know everything around here, and Mr. Smith has been flirting with our female staff quite a lot,” said Thomas with a shrug. He tried not to listen to the rumor mill too much, but Amity Park wasn't exactly a New York City emergency room. Sometimes it got slow around here. 

A tiny tint of irritation rose in Vlad’s throat, his private nature suddenly feeling invaded. He didn’t care for that lawyer, and now he knew why. What kind of lawyer didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut?

_The kind that wants to make you feel guilty, _quipped Vlad's inner thoughts_. I wasn’t exactly thrilled when he told me that I was Danny’s godfather. _

“Mr. Smith,” grumbled Vlad as he resisted the urge to call the lawyer buffoon, “is … very _perspicacious_, I suppose.”

“Yes, he is,” chimed in Thomas as he finished rewrapping Danny’s arm, throwing the used material into the biohazard trash. “Well, I’m all done here. I hope he wakes up soon so we can find out what happened. The whole situation is very perplexing. Poor Danny should be dead.”

The nurse, checking Danny's temperature once more, offered one more sympathetic smile in Vlad's direction before leaving. And finally, Vlad was left all but alone once more. 

The billionaire took in a deep breath, knowing not if he was grateful or regretful to be alone once more. He had nothing but his thoughts to entertain him now.

Despite himself, he turned his attention to his silent company and pulled his chair a little closer to the bed to better observe the teenager. Danny was motionless except for his shallow breaths that lifted and dropped his chest. Being this close also made Vlad finally noticed that Thomas had forgotten to cover Danny’s arm back up. So, as carefully as possible, he covered the teenager’s arm once more, hiding it from the world. The boy only took a shallow breath in answer.

“Now what should I do with you, little badger?” Vlad asked himself as he sat back down, half expecting to hear a reply. "But more importantly, what exactly happened to you and my dear Maddie?"

“Mom … Dad…”

The hairs on the back of Vlad’s neck quickly rose as the listened to the boy whimper in his sleep. A deep sorrow suddenly washed over the billionaire once again as he watched Danny struggle against the sheets. Yet, this time, it wasn’t for himself and his lost love. It was for the boy and his lost mother.

Sighing, the bachelor slowly picked up the black pen and wondered if he should start a new chapter to his life. He had everything he could ever want: fame, riches, and power. It was invigorating, yet at the same time, it all had felt empty. It all felt meaningless without someone there to share it with, without someone to give it to. He had crawled so high and now he was looking around realizing he was alone on the mountain top. 

Swallowing at the deep ache in his chest, Vlad made a decision.

He was tired of being alone, and Daniel was now just as alone as he was. It's true that misery loves company and, besides, “Anything’s better than a cat.”

…

_“Danny,” said Jack as he waved to his son from across a lake. Casual jeans and a blue button-up shirt replaced his usual attire. The teenager blinked once in surprise until he caught sight of his mother and sister who were seated on a tablecloth in the manicured grass, getting ready for a picnic. It was truly an image of contentment. It was so odd yet wonderful that Danny allowed a smile to crack on his lips _

_Maddie looked up from her unpacking and tilted her sunhat so Danny could see her beaming face. She smiled as she cried out, “Come on, Danny! Come have some cake dear.”_

_Her sun hat was suddenly caught by the wind, releasing her red hair to the breeze. Maddie looked so happy, especially since she was laughing because it had blown into Jack's face. “Come on Danny, before the wind blows us all away. I’ll let you have the first piece of cake. Now come over here. We have all been waiting for you.”_

_The birds sang softly as the clouds threw shade over the grassy park in patches. It was perfect. In fact, it felt like some terrible weight had been lifted from Danny's chest. It was like some terrible sorrow had been left behind and now he was running full tilt ahead, laughing at the thought of how ridiculous he must look. He was soon plopping down beside his family, glad to feel warmth in his heart once more. All he needed to be was happy was his family._

_“Danny,” said Jazz as she turned her judgmental stare on him. “Hurry up and eat. Do you want the ants to get to the cake before you?”_

_Danny rolled his eyes at her and picked up a knife. He greedily sunk the blade into the white frosting, asking, “Who wants the first piece?”_

_“Stop being modest, the first piece is yours,” laughed Sam as she entered the scene with Tucker at her heels. They both looked to be overjoyed to see Danny, especially Sam. Her smile was from ear to ear and the very wind seemed to be entranced with her hair. His two best friends soon found their seats on the tablecloth beside his family._

_Finally, they were all together._

_“If you insist,” chuckled Danny as he slowly pulled the cake apart, but instead of a sweet center, a cold red light came forward jumping up in a fiery wave. In surprise, all Danny could do was throw his hands up, howling in pain as the red light started to burn the flesh off the palms, consuming his perfect life. Danny wailed as the scenery was burned away, taking everyone with it. The ghost boy quickly felt breathless as he watched the same flaming figure from the basement rise from the ashes like a horrific, skeletal titan._

_The demon could only smile with his shark-like teeth, and then the flames consumed Danny as well, the demon whispering down at his burning form, "I am the red rage of the world. No one and no land can forever escape me.”_

…

“No!” gasped Danny as we awoke, sweat dripping down his face and back. He quickly sat up only to be forced back down with a grunt. His arm was on fire!

The teenager laid there a moment taking panicked breaths as he gripped the sheets below him. After a few moments of acting like a fish on land, Danny finally managed to swallow his panic and throw off his sheets to see what was the matter. A whimper escaped him as he looked down at his left arm. It was wrapped in bandages, yet he could see the top part of his flesh was red and irritated. The bandages were also pink-tinged, hinting at the wound below.

Not knowing what else to do, the teenager sat up using his right arm to move his left arm into his lap. His injured arm exploded in agony causing the teenager to grind his teeth as he waited for the pain to be numbed. He would have never moved at all if he knew that was going to happen.

A few moments passed of practiced breathing until Danny’s arm went semi-numb again. He opened his eyes and looked around the shadow encased room, antiseptic in the air.

“Where am I?” said the teenager to himself in a choked voice before he started coughing violently once the words passed through his chapped lips. Danny grabbed at his throat, wincing for a moment. His lungs seemed to be on fire. Where was he? What had happened? Was this a hospital room? How had he…

A loud snore suddenly ripped the boy from his thoughts, causing him to throw his head to the right ... Someone was sleeping in the bed next to him. Danny could just make out the silhouette of the other patient, but the face was hidden in dark shadows. He stared for a moment more, trying to distinguish some of the other figure's features, but his eyes just wouldn’t focus on the other occupant. It was probably just an old man he had to share the room with.

Okay, he had an annoying roommate, but why was he even here? Certainly, he would remember…

It then hit him why he had woken up, a chilling wind seeming to flow over him like an arctic night. The dream about his family!

Danny hurriedly scanned the rest of the hospital room, but no one except the strange man was there. _Where was his family?_

Despite his injured form, Danny panicked and weakly pulled himself out of bed. His feet landed heavily on the cold floor, sending a chill through his entire body and nearly causing him to fall to the floor in a collected clump.

Trying to will away his dizziness, Danny stood there a moment panting as he leaned on the hospital bed for support. Standing there, breathing in slow deliberate breaths, he finally noticed he wasn’t going anywhere until he pulled this IV out, which was now tugging at his arm.

The teenager swallowed. He had no love for needles or any of its medically painful cousins, but it had to come out. Ghosts couldn’t stop him from rescuing his cherished ones so why would a simple needle?

Already regretting it, Danny pinched the top of the needle between his thumb and forefinger and then, while looking away, he gave it a tug. He felt the sting, but its bite didn’t bother him as much as the oozing feeling now dripping down towards his elbow. Opening his eyes, the teenager stared at the small river of blood that was traveling downward. It was more blood than he thought, but he doubted he was going to bleed to death. So, he turned his attention to his feet and took a step forward.

“Ow, breezy,” coughed Danny immodestly. The boy vaguely wondered why it was so drafty until he finally looked down only to notice that he was wearing _nothing_ but a hospital gown. _Great, I'm going commando_. Plus, the gown’s color wasn’t very fetching on him. Not that his distaste mattered much when a sudden dizziness quickly overcame the teenager and he stumbled to the side, forced to grasp the stranger’s bed for support.

Glaring at his white knuckles, Danny knew he was too weak to go ghost so he would need some clothes first. It seemed he would have to do this venture without his powers.

Lucky, it was the middle of the night or one of the nurses might have noticed a half-naked boy streaking into the laundry room. Once there, the halfa found himself a green intern uniform and a pair of scrub shoes.

Putting them on while minding his bruised and batter body, the boy was quickly ready to go. Surprisingly, he got outside without a hitch. Personally, Danny didn’t understand why no one stopped him, because he doubted fourteen-year-old doctors worked there.

…

Vlad yawned loudly and rolled over, his mind restless as if trying to warn him of something. Slowly, he opened his eyes to gaze at the reason for his troubled mind: the bed right next to him. He was so mentally and physically exhausted that he hadn’t even bothered going to a motel. So, instead, he just crashed in the empty hospital bed next to the kid. He had upgraded the boy's care to a private room with an extra bed. He wanted to be there in case the other halfa woke up.

Eyes adjusting to the dim lights, the billionaire immediately noticed there was defiantly something vitally wrong here. Something was missing, wasn’t it? What was…

“Daniel!” barked the man as his sleepy mind ricocheted into full alert.

Alarm overcame the man and he quickly tried to jump out of the bed only to trip on the bed railing. His dry scream echoed out into the halls as the railing caused him to flip forward and to the floor, dragging the entire bed with him. The ruckus caused one of the female nurses to stall outside the room and glance at the closed door questionably.

She stood there a moment, her frown dragging heavily onto her plump face. Should she investigate? There was no alarm going off, but then again someone could have fallen and was unable to buzz for assistance. Then again… wasn't that the billionaire's room?

Shaking off her paranoia, her tan hands reached forward to open the door, but before she could even turn the handle a deranged-looking man suddenly threw open the door. His hair was wild and he was half dragging one of the bed railings on his foot, cursing under his breath as he struggled to kick off the contraption.

For a moment, the two just stared at each other: a frightened-looking nurse and a ruffled man that had all but dragged half of the bed out of the room with him.

Vlad struggled against the plastic bar clinging to his ankle for a moment more, before he cleared his throat, stood up straight, pushed back his stray hairs, and then straightened his collar. His tone seemed professional enough, but a tint of worry escaped his tensely held features, “The boy! … I mean Daniel Fenton. I closed my eyes for a moment and now he’s gone. I think it’s rather unprofessional to remove the child without informing me first. … The nurses did take him somewhere, didn’t they?”

The nurse blinked once, still trying to collect herself.

Tilting her head in thought, eyes tired from working a double shifted, she stated almost dumbly, “It’s the middle of the night. We wouldn’t take him in for any tests unless he’s critical.”

The man’s professional features almost cracked, whispering, “Then where is he?”

An expression of confused-worry replaced her tired eyes, and she peaked past the ruffled man and into the room. The one bed was tipped over and the other was most certainly empty… the bathroom was also dark.

Frown increasing, dismay settled in when she noticed that the IV was still in the room. There were also small droplets of blood on the floor.

She swallowed, following the trail with her brown eyes as the trickling stream of red led out into the hall and away from the room. She knew what had happened immediately, her lips becoming a tight line. The kid was gone.

Noticing the importance of the situation, the plump nurse nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed to the nurses’ station to inform hospital security and the rest of the night staff, yelling behind herself, “Sir, I need you to remain calm. From the look of things, the boy has wandered off, and he is in no condition to be out of bed. J-just stay here. I’ll get security to the room to talk to you.”

“Wait! Where are you going! What do you mean he wandered off,” growled Vlad in a raised voice, still trying to kick off the clingy railing and chase after the nurse, but as he stared at his feet... he noticed the blood smear.

Quickly turning his head, he visually followed the small path. He couldn't help but note its retreat. Had the boy been running from him?

“Daniel, you young fool. You should have spoken to me first before running off,”

Cursing the boy's stupidity, Vlad quickly phased through the bed railing. He then straightened his hair once more, and proceeded down the hall with rushed footsteps, trying to keep a controlled air around him though a type of panic was setting in. Daniel was in no condition to be out and about. It was also obvious that the night staff had no idea where he had gone. 

The boy was nothing if not predictable.

"If you want something done right, just as wells do it yourself," groused the billionaire as he followed the droplets, his gut sinking as they led him inevitably outside.

…

Danny, meanwhile, slowly stumbled past Casper High School. The windows were darkened, but Danny could still hear the laughter of his friends contained within the walls. The teenager quickened his pace to escape the looming eyes of the school, whispering to himself as he struggled not to stumble, his mind becoming clearer and clearer with every step.

“Please don’t let this be true. It _can't_ be true.” 


	4. Wilting in the Rain

"M … mom! Dad!" cried Danny as he rushed forward towards the rubble of what remained of the Fenton home.

The teenager pushed the yellow police tape to the side as the ashes cracked and splintered under his feet. The only thing that still spoke the truth that this rubble was once his home was the huge 'F' sign that loomed over the wreckage like a haunting tombstone. The teenager stared at it for a moment and then continued his rampage through the ashes, black clouds licking at his heels.

"Jazz! Tucker! Sam!" screamed the teenager through chapped lips as he stumbled deeper into the ruins of the house looking around in near hysteria. Danny soon fell to his knees unable to control the shaking of his legs, his screams dying.

Out of desperation, he finally began to dig through the rubble with his bare hands, his breath coming in hiccups. He had to find some type of proof, some sign that his family was alive, that the dream was a lie.

"Please," the boy whispered as he dug deeper and deeper into the rubble with his hands. Soon his fingers were bloody from the splinters and pieces of glass that he had uncovered, but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to let go. Not yet, not now… never again. Clockwork had given him a second _chance_. And yet, not even a few months later, the likewise fate still befell him. It had to be a lie.

"This can't be happening! Please! It just can't!"

By this time Danny's bloody hands had already reached the charred remains of the cement flooring, yet he hadn't found the comfort he needed. So he continued digging in another pile, almost erratic when he finally had to stall. He caught a glimpse of something in the rubble, his fingers shaking in agony as he slowly picked up a golden picture frame. The glass was blackened and charred, but the photo remained. Carefully, the halfa removed the photo from his childhood, little droplets of blood running down its smooth surface. The edges were burnt, but the memory remained. Jack and Maddie were holding each other tight as Jazz waved from the middle of the photograph. Sam, Tucker, and the happy teenager he once was were huddled together laughing in the bottom corner.

This proved it. This simple charred photograph spoke louder than any death certificates or gravestones. His loved ones were dead, gone like wisps of smoke.

…

_Crack!_

A bolt of lightning danced through the night sky revealing the full carnage of the Fenton house and the boy that had been huddled in it for nearly two hours, unmoving, all emotions seemingly dead and husked out. It was then, as if bidding the teenager to do the same, it started to rain. Danny looked up silently, the first raindrops falling onto his face and eyelashes only to run down his cheeks a second later. Slowly, he reached upward as if testing the tangibility of this world, feeling the wetness on his face.

A moment later, as he pulled his hand away, he found himself unable to tell the difference between his tears and those of the world. After acknowledging this, he couldn't bring himself to stop as he started to sob. He screamed out in woe as the light of his soul was crushed. The harder he cried, his body shaking, the harder the rain fell in response. The teenager couldn’t help but slam his fists into the rubble, praying that his sorrow would consume him and end his suffering.

He wanted to die here. He wanted to die right now. He wanted to lie down and be no more. Anything was better than this pain, this suffering.

"Daniel!" came a yell that echoed over the lightning's roars, a dark form with a cape suddenly revealed in the sky as one bolt fell to the earth.

Plasmius' form remained in midair, cape whipping about as he stared at the shivering body within the Fenton's rubble. The billionaire looked away from the boy for a moment, assessing the situation. He didn't sense any spirits, not a soul. It seemed that the boy hadn't left the hospital looking for a fight ... he had to mourn.

Closing his eyes, regretting his lack of comforting skills, Vlad floated down until he was a few feet from the ground, and then he quickly turned into his human form, landing in a puddle of black water. He frowned at his now soggy shoes noting how the puddle looked ominous in this lighting. That black water was now seemingly running everywhere: into the street, into the grass, staining the sidewalks. The rain was washing away the ash, turning the very water dark and staining its usual purity.

It probably was washing away evidence as well…

The man frowned at that thought and stepped forward, his expensive shoes likely ruined.

Carefully walking around the rubble piles, the man came to a halt before the frail-looking child, towering over him for a moment. Usually, he'd gloat if the teenager ever found himself at Plasmius' feet, but those days were likely gone. Vlad Masters knew he had an opportunity, and he did not want to squander it. Like all business plans, closing a deal required a bit of finesse.

Collecting a more comforting visage, Vlad knelt down at the child's side.

"Daniel? What are you doing here? There's no reason to be here. We need to go back to the hospital. You are in no condition to be outside," said Vlad carefully, hoping to get through the emotionally overridden mind of the boy.

The ghost child didn't answer or even seem to acknowledge the older halfa as he continued to wail over his inner turmoil.

"Daniel," came Vlad's voice again, demandingly because he was expecting a reply. When his threatening tone remained unacknowledged, he frowned. It seemed talking wouldn't get him anywhere right now. 

Reaching forward, the billionaire grabbed hold of the child by his shoulders, digging in slightly to let the boy know he was serious… and because he didn't like the far off look in Daniel's eyes, not to mention the violent shaking that was cascading throughout the small form. It seemed he was more distraught that Vlad originally thought. There was nothing left of that cocky, little badger right now. He needed a more soothing touch. 

Looking at the boy's shaking form and now blue lips, Vlad quickly took off his black suit jacket and put it over the shivering child's shoulders, buttoning the top button like some kind of shawl. Placing his hands on teenager's shoulders once more, he stated in a soft tone, "Daniel are you alright?" 

There was an intake of a shaking breath, a whisper escaping the broken form, "You…" 

Vlad’s eyes became slits as he leaned inward, tilting his right ear forward so he could understand what the youth was saying. When Danny didn't immediately repeat himself, he asked simply, "What?" 

"_You did this! You killed them! You killed them all_!" Danny suddenly burst out like a dam overflowing as he grabbed onto Vlad's vest with his shaking hands, staining the man's silky white shirt red as he tried to pull the larger man down to his eye level. 

Trying to push off the shock of being latched onto, Vlad shook his head and stated sadly, "Daniel, no. I did not cause the fire. In fact, no one knows how-" 

"You did this just to hurt me! Why didn't you let me die with them?! You could have at least given me that! Or is that why you're here now!" yelled the teenager, sobs intermixing with his enraged language. “Just get it over with then! Just have your revenge and kill me as well!” 

The older half-ghost blinked once in surprise and then shook his head, "Daniel, I would never hurt you like this. I _loved_ Maddie … I would never hurt her. I didn't do this, and I certainly wouldn't do all this just to hurt you. Not like this. I truly loved your mother." 

Danny stopped his hysterical crying for a moment and stared into Vlad's eyes, his vision blurry as tears continued to stream down his cheeks. Vlad ... had not done this. He had not sent the beast. Danny had no one to blame but himself. He had killed his family with his weakness! He had let them down. No matter how much he hated Vlad he knew he couldn't blame his problems on the fruitloop. His fault was his own. 

Realizing this, the truth was too much for the boy to bear. The sobbing had suddenly returned and his tears started to stream down his cheeks like a rushing current. Unable to do anything else as his mind drowned in itself, Danny screamed out and threw his head into Vlad's chest, grasping tightly to the shirt of the older man with his bloodied fists. Right now he didn't care if it was Vlad. He was in so much pain. He needed anyone, anybody! He didn't want to be alone. He wanted this ache in his heart to stall in its rupturing, bleeding deep into his chest.

Vlad's first reaction was shock. He couldn't believe that this child was actually clutching at him, trying to find comfort from his arch-nemesis. It was truly soul-wrenching.

Masters' stone visage couldn’t help but crumble as the rain continued to pelt over the two of them. He knew that there would be battles with the boy. There were bound to be given their previous interactions. _This_ was not a battle he had thought he would have to fight: a boy’s sorrow. He just figured the boy would be reclusive and bury his demons away inside himself. He should have known better though. That was what _he_ did, and though they might both be halfas ... they were still very different creatures. 

Reluctantly, as if almost fearing he'd get a plasma blast to the gut if he touched the boy, Vlad carefully wrapped his arms around the child's shaking shoulders in an awkward hug. After a moment of not being shot, Vlad added in a shaking voice, "Daniel, I miss them as well. Just … just let it all out." 

Danny only wailed louder at the confession and the billionaire even found a few stray tears streaking down his own face. He didn't shy from them or the words he had said. In college ... Jack and Maddie really had been all he had. It hurt to be left alone after the accident, abandoned.

Perhaps he was wrong about Daniel and he being different creatures. Maybe they were the same. They both had been left behind, ghosts of who they had been. Vlad had just been alive long enough to really grow bitter about it.

Burying thoughts he did not want to face, Vlad leaned a little more into the boy so that the bottom of his chin was all but resting on the teenager's head. He wouldn't think about it. There was no point in dwelling on such long-forgotten things. 

…

Far away from the ash and stone of the Fenton's house, the winged eye watched the scene in silence. Its beating wings were the only sound it made as it observed the heart-wrenching moment with almost a reaction of glee.

Seeing what needed to be seen, the observer turned away as if satisfied and flew into a nearby alley. The eyeball glided about for a moment as if on a luxury spin before making its way over to a black Cadillac's window. The black tinted window slowly rolled down and without any hesitation the eyeball flew in, finding itself a perch on one of the seats. Its eyelid seemed to squint as if it was smiling as the creature turned its attention to the occupant. 

"Master… um… I mean Mr. Smith, the boy has been found by Vlad Masters," whispered the being as rain dripped down its bat-like wings.

The occupant, who had been looking forward until then, turned his head. His sunglasses immediately fell to the tip of his nose revealing the almost inhuman eyes of Rodger Smith. 

"So you found them? What are they doing?" asked Rodger as he quirked a brow, his grin turning into a look of seriousness. 

Shaking his wings before tucking them in, the eyeball stated, "The mortals are mourning, my lord. In the ruins where the _traitor _emerged." 

Smith shifted, the leather seats singing as he became more comfortable. "Well, shall we go then? Nothing like interrupting a good time."

…

It continued to rain, soaking Vlad to the bone. He couldn’t help but look up at the sky as if blaming it for his problems. And yet he continued to kneel there, unable to move, cursing the rain. His brooding was interrupted when he heard the gentle clip-clapping of shoes.

The billionaire quickly turned his head in the direction of the sound, eyes squinting as a blurred figure emerging from the sheets of rain. The figure was a man in black ... carrying an umbrella. 

"I see you found him. The whole hospital has been in an uproar about a missing child," the figure stated as he stopped a few yards from the billionaire and the mourning child. 

The man's face was completely overshadowed by the umbrella he was carrying, but Vlad recognized the voice at once, "Smith?" 

The umbrella slowly tilted back and a cockily smiling Smith met his gaze. This really wasn't an opportune moment to be smiling, and why was the sleazy lawyer even here? Didn't he have money to be rolling around in or women to be sexually harassing?

He really didn't like that man ... something was off about him. 

Not that he really got to think the situation over when Smith's tall figure stopped stalling and walked through the remaining ruins of the Fenton house and over to Vlad's shivering body. Smith then tipped his umbrella over the two figures' heads, getting soaked himself. 

"Need some help?" asked the lawyer with a knowing grin. 

"Yes, assistance would be appreciated. Daniel is not really in any form to be walking back," said Vlad tiredly as he carefully picked up the freezing boy who had collapsed into a nonresponsive state. 

"I'd say. It seems he's exhausted himself today," replied Smith simply as he continued to hold the umbrella over Masters head. The lawyer didn't seem to be cold at all, despite the chill in the air. Instead, he tilted his head towards a pair of headlights, leading them both to his Cadillac.

Vlad halted when they got to the car and couldn't help but stare at his pathetic-looking reflection in the car's tinted windows. The lawyer didn't comment on his drench appearance and merely opened the backdoor, allowing Vlad to crawl in with his bundle. 

"I'd make an excellent chauffeur," joked the man as the billionaire carefully laid the shivering teenager in the back seat, sliding in next to him. The car door then slammed shut, the lawyer quickly making his way to the driver's seat. Vlad was given a few seconds of respite to just look at Daniel as the boy shivered under Vlad's expensive black jacket.

This ... this was going to be a mess. What had he gotten himself into?

A second later, the driver's door opened and Smith got in. The lawyer slicked back in wet hair and then turned to the back seat. He smiled oddly at Daniel and then Vlad, the windshield wipers beating away like background noise. 

It ... was kind of unsettling.

Smith stared for another uncomfortable moment before he asked, "You will protect the boy, won’t you? From all the horrors to come including himself, right?" 

Vlad quirked a brow, part of him wanting nothing more than to glance away from Smith's unblinking gaze. Instead, he forced himself to straighten his shoulders and proclaim, "Of course I will. As his godfather, I'm obligated to." 

Smith gave one of his closed-mouth smiles and put the car into gear, his voice seeming to echo in the vehicle like a bad omen, "I wish you luck then. I wish you all the luck in the world." 

…

Light from streetlamps shined through the tinted windows of Smith's Cadillac making the world seem like it was caught between shifting lines of darkness as the car drove down the street. Danny no longer slept but instead, he sat up curled against the car door as if hoping to fall out. Vlad's soaked jacket still hung lightly on his shoulders and his gaze was glued to the floorboards as the light danced over him. He couldn't look anywhere else. He refused to. It would make this real. It would make everything that had happen in the past few hours real. It would make what Vlad had said _real_. And Danny couldn't mentally handle that. So, he decided to think of nothing. He would pretend he was stuck in this moment, unable to move on.

The gears within his mental clock were struggling though, fighting against grit and gravity until suddenly an arm finally twitched… and he was once again trapped in the present. Time would not stall for him. After all, the car was moving and his heart was pumping. The world was twirling on her axis in the void of space.

His parents were still dead.

And, knowing that, Danny Fenton's lips finally moved, "Vlad …"

The billionaire's muscles tightened in response to the boy's voice, and then he turned his head to stare at the unmoving boy. Carefully, he used a soft yet professional tone while offering a tired smile. He was trying to look as supportive as possible. "Yes, Daniel?" 

The boy's next words washed away that offered smile like a road being devoured by floodwaters, "Where are they?"

Vlad instantly knew what the teen meant and it stung deeply to have the boy ask in such a broken way. Turning away for a moment, looking back at the rain hitting the car window, he stated, "They are … They are no longer with us."

Vlad didn't know what else to say. He could say they were at the morgue, but his own emotions couldn't handle the thought of Maddie's beautiful hair being nothing but a charred lump. He wished he could have at least said he loved her or at least said goodbye, but that was how death was he supposed. The ones who truly suffered are those left behind. They must live with their regrets. He was just starting to get a grasp on the idea that all the Fentons were dead ... he didn't know how Daniel was going to handle all of this. 

Children bounce back easily after death, right? 

Danny swallowed at Vlad's reply, sickness swelling in his gut. That was not the answer he wanted from this usually cruel and heartless man. He wanted the hard truth. He wanted it to stab him in the heart and end its insistent beating! 

"That's _not_ what _you_ are supposed to _say_," ground out the boy, his teeth grinding against each other in a growing rage.

The older halfa raised a brow. "What are you talking about, Daniel?"

And with that, Daniel snapped, rage exploding in his chest as he turned and shouted at the surprised-looking billionaire, "You are supposed to say they're all dead, Danny! They are all DEAD! Mom! Dad! Jazz! Tucker! Sam! All dead, because you didn't do anything DANIEL! You didn't do anything! You didn't try hard enough! I wasn't a good enough HERO!"

Vlad, eyes wide, sat there a moment in utter surprise. He honestly didn't know what to say. The boy's explosion seemed to come out of nowhere. Generally, he wouldn't take that kind of lip from anyone, but ... if Daniel needed to scream, it was better than the still child he placed in the car minutes ago. Anything was better than that lost child crying in the dark. 

The screaming did not last long though and as quickly as it came, it was gone. Danny's curses were now turning into choked whispers as the boy started to pull into himself once again. "I failed them... I'm the reason they're dead. It should have been me."

Masters honestly didn't know what to say, he even threw a pleading glance to Smith in the front seat, but all the dark-haired man did was share his gaze through the rearview mirror. 

Swallowing, not knowing how else to comfort the boy, Vlad slowly unbuckled his seatbelt and slid across the seat. "Here, let's get you out that jacket, my boy. You're positively shivering. Everything is all right. You're just a bit chilled ... everything is fine."

He then carefully took the wet jacket and pulled the now whimpering boy against his side to keep him somewhat warm, rubbing the sobbing boy's shoulder. Daniel refused to look at him as he buried his head in his hands.

Vlad threw one more pleading look to the lawyer and the man finally spoke, his tone feeling far too knowledgeable for someone his age. "Sometimes there's nothing to say."

…

The next five days were almost as depressing as the car ride back to the hospital. Danny remained bed-bound, silent to everyone that came into his room. Vlad didn't know what else to do but to allow the boy to be as he dealt with the Fenton's affairs. Though, as fate would have it, they couldn't ignore each other forever. Vlad’s actions were leading up to this … and the funeral was coming to pass. 

In fact, his family's funerals were tomorrow and his two friends had already been buried. Vlad had tried multiple times to tell the boy, but Daniel would just roll over and cover his ears with his hands. He wanted to wait, but he couldn't stand the thought of Maddie being in a freezer for another day.

"Daniel, little badger, we need to talk," said Vlad carefully as he walked into the room, a plastic-covered suit draped over one arm.

Danny, on his side and staring at the window, closed his eyes and tried to ball into himself somewhat. 

Vlad sighed and carefully laid the suit on the chair, the plastic crinkling. He then sat on the edge of the hospital bed, placing a hand on the boy's leg. Daniel shifted away slightly, but Vlad knew he had to speak, "I got you a suit, Daniel. It might be a little big since you weren't ... well enough ... to go to a tailor."

The boy swallowed loudly, likely choking down a sob. 

"It's tomorrow, Daniel," said Vlad calmly, waiting for a reaction.

He did not get one.

Sighing, rising to his feet, Vlad tightened his tie and added, "The doctor's said you are stable enough to go out tomorrow. So, please try to get out of bed and try it on. It's important that you look nice for this."

Daniel now was visibly clawing at his sheets, his eyes squeezed tightly like he was trying to will away the world. 

Frowning, wanting to help the boy but uncertain as to what to say, Vlad placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, his words soft, "Everything will be okay, little badger. I have a few more things to do for the funerals ... but I will be by later to have supper with you like usual. Okay?"

Daniel did not answer and Vlad left with a sigh, his shoes squeaking as he departed.

Luckily, when he came back hours later, the suit was out of the plastic and laid back on top of the chair, showing that the boy had at least tried it on. 

...

Vlad sat in the hospital chair the next morning, dressed in one of his finest black suits, his leg lazily crossed over the other as he watched the closed bathroom door. He sighed and looked back at his gold watch. He knew he shouldn't be impatient, that he should have at least been glad Daniel got up on his own to put on the suit when asked, but it had been nearly half an hour. 

"Daniel?" finally called Vlad. "Is everything going okay in there? Do you need help?"

There, unsurprisingly, was no reply.

Sighing, getting to his feet. Vlad made his way over to the door. He knocked and leaned in to see if he could hear anything, "Daniel? Is everything alright? May I come in?"

When he didn't get a reply, his spine tingled in worry and the billionaire reached for the door handle. But, before he could even turn it, a click sounded from the inside and slowly the door swung open. 

Beside himself, Masters' features softened as he looked down at Daniel. The boy was tugging at the tie around his throat and it quickly became obvious what was wrong. He didn't know how to tie one. 

Vlad almost opened his mouth and made a semi-passive aggressively comment about how useless Jack was for not even showing Daniel that much, but somehow he held it in. Instead, he put a finger under Daniel's chin and forced the child to look up at him. The boy's eyes were red-rimmed. Sadly, that was a normality for the boy, but Vlad smiled warmly nonetheless as he untied his own tie. 

"Here, let me show you how its done, little badger. Just follow my instructions," said Vlad calmly. He kept his voice even throughout the lesson, glad that the boy was at least meeting his gaze somewhat and following his instruction. He had to stop and help once, but in the end, Daniel had done a fine job by himself. 

"Great job, my boy," said Vlad if only to fill the silence, patting Daniel's shoulder. "Now, I got you a pair of gold cufflinks. They were my first pair and will go nicely with that suit. I also got you a boutonniere. Its a gesture of love and respect for the ... uh ... deceased."

Daniel looked down at that, his eyes rapidly blinking. He did not fight Vlad though as he placed the boutonniere on his jacket nor did he push away the assistance as Vlad showed him how to put on his cufflinks.

Finally, the boy was done and just in time. The limo was expecting them. Nonetheless, Vlad took a moment at the room's door to force Daniel to look up at him. His tone was stern but not unkind, "Daniel, if you need help or if it becomes too much today, just say so. Alright?"

The teenager merely blinked rapidly, before slowly nodding.

Vlad pretended not to see Daniel wiping his eyes with his expensive suit's sleaves as they walked out to the limo. Those would not be the last tears today. Not by a long shot. He didn't know when the boy would finally run out of tears.

…

It should have been a beauitful day. Instead, the sky refused to drop its grey canopy of clouds which was hiding the sun. Perhaps the dreariness was befitting, considering it was a funeral, but Vlad only thought the world cruel for her skyward presentation. A bright day would have press away sorrow faster than this mist that seemed to be creeping up from the graves. 

Looking away from the hazy graveyard, the billionaire turned his attention to the boy that had just stepped out of the limousine after him, the wind blowing softly in the boy's hair and hiding his eyes. 

Little did the billionaire know that the teenager was secretly glad for the wind and how it hid his eyes. Danny had managed to not cry throughout the entire service, his palms now containing nail indentations, but the burial was right in front of him. Where holes had been seemingly dug to the underworld so that caskets could be dropped in and forgotten.

Was he strong enough to hide all his emotions? Ball them up and place them in a silver vial? Could he keep his whimpering breath and every last tear away and hard-pressed? 

Unnoticed by the boy, Vlad's eyes had been shifting towards Daniel for the past two hours, waiting for the boy to finally break. The older man had yet to see one tear since the hospital. All the teenager had done was close his eyes from time to time as if struggling for breath, petting his injured arm during the service as if trying to comfort a scarred part of himself.

It was going to happen. Vlad had little doubt, but until then his eyes roamed over the scene. He had gone through great measures to make sure the service and funeral were worthy of a queen and her daughter… and her stooge. 

Unknown to the teenager, Vlad had momentarily considered putting Jack in a Fenton Casket in spite. Instead, if only to keep the peace with Daniel, he had ordered three cherrywood caskets all adorned with imported flowers. A bride would have been envious at the lengths Masters had gone to make this day unforgettable. Essentially, if he could not give Maddie a magnificent marriage then he would at least give her a grand funeral.

After all, she was his Lady of Shallot, forever beautiful in his mind as she flowed down the river Styx.

If only he could have had an open casket to give her a parting kiss, but one cannot kiss a burnt corpse.

Vlad's thoughts were quickly stolen from him when something hit his forehead. Slowly, he gazed upward … a light drizzle had started. 

Damn, the flower petals were all going to get wet.

Wanting to keep their suits dry, Vlad reached back into the limousine and grabbed his umbrella. He had barely shut the door when he noticed that other cars were pulling in behind them.

Making a mental list of who had bothered to come, Vlad finally popped open the umbrella to shield the two of them from the light drizzle. At least it wasn't a full downpour. Unfortunately, the clouds above were looming with a threatening weight. 

"Vlad?" 

The older half-ghost was suddenly stirred from his thoughts, looking down at the teenager that had not met his gaze since they had both left the hospital. Or spoken to him for that matter.

Carefully, he asked, "Yes, Daniel?" 

"I … I can't do this," suddenly choked the teenager, jerking himself back towards the car, ready to jump in and hide behind the dark-tinted windows.

And there it was ... the break.

Before the boy could even open the car door, Vlad quickly stalled the boy's retreat. He grabbed Daniel around his middle and pulled the teenager towards himself, both hugging and restraining him. 

Danny took a few panicked breaths at this and dug his fingers into Vlad's arm, but the older halfa was no stranger to pain. He was stern and unmovable and barely winced. Danny, feeling like his throat was closing up, gave in easily and slumped against the billionaire. He starting shaking his head, murmuring over and over again that he couldn't do this. 

Vlad sighed, petting the kid's fluffy head. And so, it began, the waterworks that had been quiet all morning.

Without a second thought, he pulled a fine handkerchief from his suit pocket and gave it to the teenager. He then loosened his grip and cupped Danny's head so that those wet eyes were forced to look up at him. 

"Daniel ... it's alright. You can cry if you need to. These kinds of things ... are expected," stated Vlad in a soft tone.

The teenager couldn't meet the older man's gaze. He felt weak for finally breaking ... He was a coward. 

"Daniel, nod your head if you understand," continued the older man, his tone almost demanding now.

Despite himself, Danny reluctantly met the man's gaze and nodded as a few stray tears escaped. It was then that he noticed that Vlad's eyes were just a little red as well. He must have been close to crying at one point. 

Vlad's voice showed no weakness though as he spoke, "Besides, it's best not to run away, little badger. You would regret it for the rest of your life. Plus, your family would want you to be here, and we both know you're stronger than this."

Masters smoothly stood back up and put a comforting hand on the teenager's shoulder as he led him forward, the umbrella echoing as the rain continued to fall. 

The grasses swayed silently around them as they made their way across the grounds, headstones watching with a deep stillness. Danny had stopped panicking and now all his energy was focused on the flowers he was holding (courtesy of Vlad). His grip was currently threatening to crush the flowers' thin stalks as he mouthed over and over again that he could do this. 

Finally, they made it to the plots, three caskets hovering over their eternal holes as they waited to be lowered into the ground. Danny knew he should try to listen to the priest's words or at least look at the beautiful bouquets adorning the coffins so that he may remember this years later ... but all he could do was stare at his shoes. 

Danny just didn't get it. How was he supposed to just stand here and _watch_ as his family was lowered into the dirt so that they could be covered up and forgotten forever? And, worst of all, he was supposed to stand here right next to his arch-nemesis and allow that man to comfort him.

Finally looking up from his shoes, Danny was going to ask why Vlad was even here taking care of him ... when he heard the whine of a small engine. The priest was done with his speech and people were throwing flowers in ... his family was finally being lowered into the ground.

The teenager's hands trembled around the flowers he held. This had to be a nightmare, a twisted nightmare. Why couldn’t he wake up? Why wasn't Clockwork interfering? Was it because their deaths were different ... or had the time ghost merely bought him a few extra months and they were always fated to die? 

Had he squandered those gifted months like a brat? 

He wished he was dead instead. 

Breathing catching, Danny watched those lovely wooden caskets slowly disappear into the earth, the flowers on top wilting in the rain. When the last white petal sank beyond his immediate sight ... he snapped. His face was drowned in tears as he openly sobbed, shaking with grief. Vlad silently rubbed the teenager's back as he whispered something unintelligible, but the boy's sobbing only grew in volume. 

Vlad ... didn't know what to do. The boy was nearly hysterical.

The adults were all throwing sympathetic looks. A few people were actually crying. There also were students milling about with their parents. He doubted half of them were even Jazz's or Danny's friends, but such things were almost expected when a student died. The few youths to the front all looked too stuck-up to come of their own accord, though the African American girl kept giving Danny a sorrowful glance. 

Ah yes, Valerie Gray. He remembered her. 

The bachelor met her gaze for a moment, thinking how skilled that girl was before he continued to look around until someone whispered in his ear, "This is usually the time you bow your head." 

Vlad started, caught off guard. He snapped his head to his side and almost audibly groaned when slim, yellow sunglasses stared back at him. The interloper merely smiled. 

"Mr. Smith, this is a highly inappropriate conversation for the moment," whispered Vlad to the man next to him. "It's in bad taste to critique someone's mourning habits at a funeral ... especially while wearing a smile." 

Mr. Smith merely continued to smile and bowed his head slightly, allowing his sunglasses to hang on the edge of his nose. It was taking all the energy the lawyer had not to start laughing. The irony, him in a graveyard. Not that anyone else would get the joke. 

Vlad was now sneering at Smith, but he didn't get a word in edgewise when Danny finally couldn't take it anymore. The boy started to collapse. Vlad barely floundered fast enough to grab the teenager under the armpit and keep him standing before the boy ended up in the mud. Not that Danny cared. He made no attempts to hide his grief as his cries grew in strength, his whimpers growing into stifled screams.

Struggling to keep the boy standing while still holding his umbrella, Vlad encouraged the boy to at least cling to him so he wouldn't end up in the mud. It was a little awkward having the child cry all over him when Daniel had wanted him dead a month ago, but there was nothing else to be done for it. 

Petting the boy's head as he wallowed into his expensive suit, Vlad gave one more glare at Smith as if telling him to leave. Smith merely nodded his head with a smile and departed. It was at this time ... that he also caught the stuck-ups watching, their conversation carrying slightly as the teens started to turn away. 

"That is pathetic. He's getting a rich uncle or something now I hear. He should be glad to be rid of his family of stooges," whispered Dash, making sure no one but his small group of popular kids heard him, but little did he know that Vlad's ghost abilities amped his normal senses allowing him to hear every word. "Except Jazz, that is. It should have been him and not Jazz that died. At least Jazz was pretty and smart." 

Kwan whimpered a small complaint but was punched in the arm for his troubles.

Paulina merely rolled her eyes at the whole display as she flipped her hair, indifferent as she looked away from the crying boy, "Let's just get out of here, black is so not my color. I still can't believe I was forced to come. Popularity really sucks sometimes."

"Same," grumbled Dash. "Let's ditch the rest of this. It's just sad at this point."

Vlad's lip twitched as he watched the teenagers walk away. The caskets weren't even fully in the ground yet!

Feeling petty, the billionaire quickly called upon an invisible Plasmius clone as he remained in his human form. It was a new trick he had developed and was planning on using it on Daniel later, but he doubted they would be having any of their duels anytime soon. Daniel had no reason to fight him anymore… Maddie was gone.

Shaking off the depressing thought, Vlad closed his eyes and felt his other half follow the teenagers over the hill. It only took a moment and then there were quickly unmistakable screams of, "Ghost!"

Opening his eyes, his pupils glowing, the billionaire wrapped an arm around the teen and helped him to the limo. That showed those little brats. Daniel was his responsibility, and he wouldn't stand for such disrespect towards the Masters' name. 

Not that Daniel knew he was getting a name change ... They still hadn't had that whole I'm your godfather and I'm adopting your conversation. Maybe tomorrow or in a week. 

Vlad wasn't really in the mood for a ghost fight right now. 


	5. Chessboard

The funeral was over, the papers were signed, and yet Vlad seemed to be forgetting something. It was an emptiness that he could not name, yet it continued to eat at his mind. What was it? Wait … Did he need to say something to someone? Who was he suppose to…?

“Mr. Masters?”

Mr. L. Lancer appeared before the billionaire pulling the man from his thoughts. The balding man’s brow was furrowed giving his face a downtrodden expression.

“Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I was trapped in my own thoughts,” said the bachelor civilly.

Not that Vlad thought anyone would blame him for his lapse. He had been greeting people for the past hour at the wake, taking condolences with a firm handshake and a sorrowful smile. And yet ... he could barely remember a single soft word he had exchanged until now. Traditionally, Daniel should have been doing this as the closest heir, but that would be far too cruel. So, Vlad took it upon himself to represent the child, who currently sat behind him at the table just poking at the chicken on his plate, unable to speak or eat. 

The discomposed halfa couldn’t help but notice that Lancer kept throwing glances over his shoulder to stare at the teenager. The teacher’s frown only grew as well as the pity in the educator's eyes. That wasn’t the first time the bachelor had seen that look today and he doubted it would be the last.

Lancer knew that look ... the boy was broken. Any person could see that just by the way he held himself. Danny looked like a string that had come unbound, threads flittering away into oblivion.

The teacher turned away. It hurt to see one of his students this way. It was even worse because next Monday he’d be four students short. Lancer had heard through the grapevine that Danny would not be coming back to Casper High School. 

Turning his attention now to the man who would teach and guide the boy, Lancer said kindly, “That's understandable. This must be an overwhelming time for a bachelor like yourself, but f I’m not too bold in stating Mr. Masters, you’re a fine man to be taking Danny in. I'm glad he has someone familiar to take him in." 

Suddenly, the clicking of Danny’s fork stopped. He was listening. 

“If you ever need any advice or have any questions about Danny's education, feel free to contact me. It was a joy to have him in class … even if he was a slight trouble maker, but what kids aren't?” continued the teacher as he fished out a contact card, completely oblivions to Vlad's growing expression of horror. "Here's my card if you need anything for his new school. Email is probably the best way to contact me. And, really, thank you for taking Danny in. No kid deserves to be stuck in the foster system. Its ... hard on kids." 

Click! 

Vlad immediately closed his eyes, bracing for the worst. This was not the time or place to tell Daniel that he had been officially adopted and was now Vlad's dependent. This was a rather unfavorable way to tell the teenager that he was the boy's godfather. 

Swallowing, deciding he needed to smooth this over quickly before Daniel created a scene, Vlad accepted the card and stated firmly, "Thank you for your encouraging words, Mr. Lancer. I will certainly chat about this later, but if you don't mind. I have-” 

Lancer continued on as if Vlad hadn’t said anything, “It moved me to tears when I found out Danny had been taken in so quickly. I was overjoyed that his parents had the foresight to assign a godfather. I think you’ll make a wonderful father figure Mr. Masters.” 

A loud click came from behind Vlad … Daniel had dropped his fork, the boy's breath catching. Vlad turned slightly to glance at the teenager behind him. Daniel was just staring at him now with a flabbergast expression. Mr. Lancer, of course, was completely oblivious to this and continued to ramble on, “Danny never once mentioned you. Of course, Danny never was very social, except with his close-knit friends.”

“You’re lying!”

Half of the wake stalled, turning to stare at the fuming teenager as his yell echoed over the room.

“_You are a liar_!” repeated the teenager, his voice a growl.

Mr. Lancer looked shocked for a moment which quickly turned into a look of confusion when Danny looked at his teacher directly and almost begged, “This is my home. Please, say you’re lying.” 

Lancer glanced at Masters who at least had the decency to look abashed.

Sighing, pinching his brow as if a stress-headache was coming on, Vlad turned to the boy directly as he spoke calmly, "Daniel. I'm sorry. I was meaning to tell you, but the best time hadn’t yet presented itself. I wanted to have this talk after the funerals. You see, the doctors were worried about stress and I-”

“Presented itself?!" interrupted Danny angrily as he stood up, knocking the chair over. "The moment should have _never_ presented itself! You have never presented yourself! I'm not leaving my home!”

The teenager was panting when he was done. Then, without warning, he pushed past both Vlad and Lancer and ran out into the downpour outside. 

“Daniel! Wait!” called out Vlad, his legs quickly storming after the teenager, caring less about the wake.

Lancer stood there for a moment in a stupor as the glass door slammed open, the platinum-haired man running after the distraught teenager. It seemed that Vlad hadn’t told Danny of his guardianship though it honestly seemed obvious. It seemed that he let the cat out of the bag. 

Great gumballs of Candy War. He had caused this little outburst, hadn’t he? Oops wouldn’t even be able to cover this. The aging educator swallowed and decided to chase after the racing pair making sure to grab an umbrella and raincoat in his haste, “Wait for me!”

…

His feet led him. Danny had no idea where he was running too nor how long he had been racing along, but he had to get away. He couldn’t be in that place for another minute! When those words left Lancer’s mouth he suddenly felt filthy as if was covered in dirt and blood. He could basically feel it weighing down his hair and suffocating his skin. 

Perhaps the rain would wash away this horrible filth that seemed to be clinging to him.

He didn't want to know the truth ... even though Vlad being his godfather made alot of sense. 

At that thought, the enraged teenager found his feet halting. His breathing was sticking in his chest and he was forced to take panicked little gasps. He decided to give in to the weariness of his flesh and leaned against a brick wall in an alleyway. The cold stone kissed his back as he slid down the wall, his legs listless in front of him as he sat there on the soaking wet cement. His lungs continued to sting as he was forced to gather himself again.

He shouldn't have freaked out. It wasn't really that big of a surprise. Why else would Vlad be here taking care of him and preparing the funerals? He even got his stuff from his school locker so he had some personal items that weren't fire damaged. He also dealt with the doctors, sat at his bedside as he withered in pain, and comforted him in the rubble. Vlad was trying to keep the sorrow at bay ... like caretakers are supposed to. 

Danny swallowed thickly at the mental acknowledgment and dug his fingers into his hair as he tried to accept these facts. Part of him just ... _couldn't_. He was going to start losing it, wasn't he?

Was this the first step toward being Dan?

Thankfully, for the boy’s sanity, a sudden flapping noise filled the evening air drowning out his suffocating thoughts. He looked upward and there it hovered, a winged eye the size of a grapefruit. It had soft bat wings and a purple cat-like pupil, which was focused entirely on Danny.

It was creepy, to say the least. 

“What are you? Are you a ghost? Did you come here for a fight, because you’ll soon be getting one if you don’t leave NOW!” barked Danny willing to take his anger out on any moving thing right now.

The eyeball merely squinted at him in a smug way. If it had lips it would have been smirking.

“Oh, poor little halfa,” the creature mocked. “So sad and broken that he can only deal with his own feelings by picking on a little eyeball like me.” 

“Shut up!” barked Danny as he grabbed the nearest object he could find and thrust it at the creature. It missed and landed with a loud clunk against a neighboring wall.

The eyeball chuckled at this and fluttered about the now shivering child in a mocking manner, purring, “His mommy and daddy are gone and now he’s all alone. A drowned little rat that nobody loves or cares for. Worthless in a word.” 

“I’m not worthless!” yelled Danny as he rose to his feet ready to smash the little punk into oblivion … but he suddenly _stopped_. Slowly, he sank back down into the forming puddles, the words digging into his flesh like a thousand little knives. That thing was right, wasn’t it? He was worthless! What kind of hero can’t save his own family? 

“I am worthless, aren’t I?” 

“You’re as worthless as you allow yourself to be, dear child,” said the winged creature as his mocking tone quickly dissipated. It probably just mocked him to test the levels of his sorrow.

“Then I must be scum,” whispered Danny darkly as he slammed his fist into the brick wall behind him. After a moment or two, he pulled his knees into his chest and stared at his now bloody hand like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “I'm lower than the dirt under my feet. I couldn’t even save my own family, my friends!”

“The dirt ... worthless?” questioned the eye as it perched itself on a trashcan. “Hardly, all things grow and return to it. It supports all things." 

Danny threw a belittling glare at the creature. What was this idiot eyeball rambling on about now? First, he insulted him and is now supportive? Maybe the thing's just messing with him. “What do you want?”

The ghost-eye seemed to smirk again, like this was all a game, “The question you should ask is not what I want, but what do you want, little halfa?” 

Danny’s eyebrow twitched, “Why are you playing mind games?” 

“I’m not,” the creature tried to keep a serious tone to his voice. “You're the one who doesn't even know what you want anymore." 

Danny crumbled against the brick wall and buried his head into his knees. His words were muffled when he finally decided to speak, “I know exactly what I want.”

Suddenly looking miserable, the rain not helping his visage, Danny’s bleeding hand slowly pulled the burnt photograph out of his pocket. He stared at it longingly. This is all he wanted. 

“But what you yearn for, you can no longer have,” whispered the creature softly, its wings puffing up almost like a cranky crow. 

“Then I don’t want anything anymore!" shouted Danny before his tone suddenly sobered, "I'm not scared of the silence, of dying. It's better than becoming a monster.” 

The eyeball went stock still, its eyelids going wide like it was shocked. Immediately, it started fluttering about as if panicked, “Let's not do anything rash. Let's not start having suicidal ideas here. It's just ... a rough patch.”

Danny glared at the winged eyeball, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. 

The little ghost quickly added, “What I mean is that you can have the next best thing.” 

“And what supposedly is the next best thing?” bit back Danny, wiping his eyes angrily.

“… Revenge,” said the creature with a hiss as his eyelid became a slit.

“Revenge … on who?” mumbled the broken boy as he stuffed the picture back into his pocket.

“The fires and the being that took them. Don't you remember? He took your greatest treasure.”

An image of the flaming menace flickered before his eyes. Danny quickly grabbed the eyeball and squished its small body against the pavement as he yelled, “What do you know about that monster!”

The eyeball flapped its wings in panic, the clawed fingers on the tips of its wings slashing out like little razors. It even managed to knick Danny's face, causing the teenager to bark in surprise and release the little beast.

The eyeball then flew a safe distance away before he continued speaking, "I can tell by your reaction that you remember ... and agree.” 

Danny angrily wiped the small slash on his cheek before he stood up, almost hugging himself, "I'll never forget, but I don't see why it matters. I couldn’t defeat him then, so how am I supposed to do it now?”

“Have you not the older halfa to watch your back?" asked the little menace, purposefully ignoring the teenager's disgusted expression. 

“That jerk will never be my father regardless of whatever documents he signed. Besides, he's far more likely to stab me in the back than guard it," grumbled Danny, bitterly added, "And I'm not dumb enough to ask him for anything." 

The eyeball pretended to dwell on the boy's words before he slyly replied, “Well, he won't guard your back, maybe he can teach you how to watch your own. Plasmius is a force to be reckoned with, from what I understand.”

"Additional training, huh? Jerk-mius does have some cool skills. Maybe I could-," Danny suddenly stalled, his glare returned, "Wait a minute? Did Vlad set this all up? Is he trying to get me on his side without a fight?" 

The eyeball stilled, his expression almost guilty, "What? No. I came of my own accord and I was just in the area!”

Danny's crossed his hands over his chest, "It was Vlad, wasn't it? How am I not surprised? Are you like my stalker-babysitter or something to make sure I'm a good boy? Well, news flash. It ain't going to happen.” 

“You think the elder halfa is my Master?” giggled the eyeball like it was a fabulous joke, its giggles becoming almost unhinged cackles as it flapped about. 

Beside himself, Danny took a wary step backward, “So … it isn’t Vlad.”

“Certainly not, little halfa,” laughed the small beast, “But that doesn't mean you should disregard such a valuable asset. Vlad Masters has his place on the chessboard. We all do, even you.” 

The eyeball then cackled one more time before he whimsically flew off. The Master’s game was more fun than he initially thought, especially since he himself had helped moved the first pawn onto the board.

“Hey, wait! I’m not done!” yelled Danny at the creature as it flew away into the night sky, but it was already gone causing the boy to grumble, “Fine. You aren't the only one that can fly here. I’m going ghost!”

There was no flash of light. 

There were no rings or cascading colors of white and black. 

There was also no explosion of power right beneath his skin. 

Nothing had happened. 

Looking down at his hands in confusion, Danny tried again, “What the ...? Going ghost!”

Again, nothing … nothing at all.

The teenager swallowed thickly, a silent fear overcoming his senses as he whispered, “Why aren’t my ghost powers working?”

The second he said that a darker thought occurred to him. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about becoming Dan now if he was powerless ... but that didn’t really help the instantaneous feeling of helplessness. A thought had just occurred to him. He hadn’t had a single phasing accident or a ghost breath ever since the fire. Not one breath from Vlad or the eyeball. _Nothing_.

“Wha… What’s wrong with me?”

…

“Mr. Masters, wait!” yelled Lancer as he grabbed the frazzled looking billionaire, catching his arm. Vlad had been running through the alleys and streets for the past half an hour, desperately looking for Danny. He was soaked to the bone and breathing rather heavily. 

“Unhand me, simpleton!” snapped Vlad as he pulled his arm free.

Lancer let go immediately, waving his hands in a calming manner, "Calm down. You'll catch your death running around like that. Here, have this at least.”

The educator then offered an umbrella from under his raincoat, giving it to the shivering man. “Here, before you catch your death.”

Sighing, pushing his dripping wet hair out of his eyes, Vlad accepted the umbrella without complaint. 

Knowing that he had finally caught the man's attention, Lancer continued, “Okay. Let's walk, not run, and find Danny together,” Lancer swallowed before he said the next line, “I think you need someone to talk too.”

Vlad glared from under his umbrella, “I suppose you think me a nutcase? Well, the last breakdown nearly caused the boy hypothermia. I'm only looking out for his best interests. Teenagers can be so ... so _irrational_."

Lancer raised a brow at the nutcase comment but calmly added, "No, I wasn't thinking that, Mr. Masters. I'm guessing you were an only child so you are new when it comes to dealing with kids. It can cause a lot of stress with normal teenagers ... Danny, well, Danny's a good kid, but he also is a problem child. If I had any more hair to lose, he probably would have been the cause.”

Vlad snorted tiredly at the bald comment and then ran a hand down his face as they continued to walk. "I’m not stressed.” 

“Oh? Then why did you panic when Daniel ran out on his own?” asked Lancer, matching Masters' pace. 

Vlad stopped in his tracks and slumped his shoulders in response. It was true. Daniel's emotional break was wearing on him. Here he was supposed to help the boy ... but was essentially worthless. 

Swallowing his pride, Vlad added softly, "Daniel's so ... _broken_. I don't know if I can even help him. And I don't dare leave him unsupervised in case he does something drastic. The boy is obviously unhinged. And it’s just a lot harder then I thought.” 

The half-ghost then put a hand over his eyes as a shaky breath escaped his throat. That simple utterance was so revealing and now Vlad felt he couldn't stop, his words tired and lost, "I’ve been trying to comfort the poor child, but he's been so unresponsive. And, at the same time, I have to deal with my own mourning. The Fenton's were old friends, and I can’t sleep without thinking of Maddie burning. I feel so useless. And now I'm stuck with this boy that hates me, but at the same time, he’s all that is left of Maddie. Daniel's the only remnants of her light.” 

Lancer listened patiently before he finally decided to speak, “Mr. Masters … you’re doing just fine. It's normal to mourn and it takes a strong man to put another before himself. Yes, there will be times you’ll mess up, but that’s to be expected. And I doubt Danny hates you, he's just hurting right now. You'll both be fine.”

Vlad let out a sigh of disbelief but nodded calmly regardless. Lancer merely smiled in turn and they continued forward. A weight had been lifted from the billionaire's shoulders. It didn't really fix anything, but at least it was a start. 

Though beating the brat into the pavement for running off sounded kind of fulfilling as well. 

…

“Your will has been upheld Master,” squeaked the winged eyeball as he flew into the lawyer’s office from an open window. The little beast then pelted water everywhere as he shook his form like a dog. The lawyer’s eye twitched with annoyance, but he ignored the urge to react. 

“Very good Gibgit, and what of the older half-ghost, Vlad Masters?” Smith asked smoothly as he pulled a golden box onto his desk. It wasn't a large box. Maybe it was a bit smaller than a shoebox, but it had the oddest Greek symbols carved into its black stone finish.

“Well… about that Master.”

Smith almost groaned. He knew that tone.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t talk to him?” growled the lawyer as he tensed up. He hated it when his plans flopped. This one couldn't afford to fail. 

"Well, you see, it is cold and raining. My eye ached and-”

“Your eye ached?!” barked Smith as he flung his glass of wine at the eyeball, his nails lengthening and digging into his desk threateningly. “Do you not understand how important this is?!” 

“Yes, Master. It's just-” whined the small beast as it shrank into itself. 

Smith, staring at the pathetic form, groaned and pinched his nose bridge. Slowly, he shook his head, “Just… come here. I have a new plan. Vlad probably would have blasted you away anyway. The boy at least can be manipulated. Anger makes even the greatest warriors blind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does Smith want? I could state that he wants a new pair of shoes, but then I might be lying. >.> 


	6. Airsick

“Oh, no, no. This is bad. What am I going to do?” said Danny as he paced back and forth in the alley, muttering like a madman. “If I can’t go ghost, then I can’t get revenge and,” a thought finally occurred to him, “what if Vlad finds out? … _He won’t find out_. Yeah. I’ll just use my brain instead of my fists for once … Ugh, I’m so out of practice.”

Danny continued his ranting until he heard a soft chorus of voices. He quickly ducked behind a dumpster in paranoia and listened. Heavy footsteps were soon followed by the figures of Mr. Lancer and Vlad. The teenager started to panic as he watched his _godfather._ Ugh, that now felt like a nasty word. Thankfully, the older halfa didn’t seem to notice him and Danny released a breath he had been holding. Stuck there now, he had nothing better to do but listen. 

“So, when are you leaving?” asked Lancer as he readjusted his yellow hat.

“Tomorrow. There’s nothing to pack and I think the memories that surround this place might be too painful for Daniel. Plus, in his state of mind, well … I just think it’s best.”

“Where will Danny be moving too?”

“Wisconsin. I have a castle there.”

Lancer merely raised an eyebrow, inquiring, “And it can't wait a few more days?”

Vlad shifted his umbrella to his other hand as if he was biding a moment to think. “Someone of my notoriety might attract unwanted attention in a small town like Amity Park. I don't want the press badgering Daniel quite yet, so it's best for us to leave now. The sooner, the better.”

“Moving might be hard on him," continued the English teacher. "Are you sure he can't finish up the school year here at least? Familiar faces might be good for him.”

It seemed to take forever for the voices to finally becoming muffled, their wet footsteps disappearing.

Danny sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands. He knew he was going to live with Vlad, but since he had only known for a few minutes it hadn’t yet sunk in. Danny was moving away from his home, his hope… and closer to _Dan_.

No, no! He knew his fate if he gave into sorrow. He couldn't do that. Besides, this future was different. His parents had lived longer than with evil Dan, and Lancer hadn't died. Plus, the demon had never been there. This time around, he had revenge to keep his head on straight.

…

Vlad was becoming frustrated because they still hadn’t found Daniel yet, but he was glad to be in Lancer’s company. The man had a calming mindset to him. No wonder he was a teacher. In fact, while talking with the educator about Daniel's recent grades, a thought occurred to him: _What if there were more of me_? Simple multiplication, no?

The billionaire smirked as his invisible ghost clones scattered to help in his search, dripping from of his shadow and into the pavement before reemerged out of Lancer’s line of sight. 

“Skittles. We should have thought of that sooner,” one of his clones whispered before flying down a separate alley.

…

If Danny’s ghost powers had been working he might have noticed there were Plasmius clones on the prowl, but since he was now inept he hadn’t noticed the replicated Plasmius’ running amuck. So, unable to keep still, the teenager was no longer keeping hidden.

Danny slowly got up feeling hatred and sickness in his stomach, but he had to worry about that sick feeling later. Right now he had to worry about his ghost powers. He was powerless and keeping that information from Vlad was his number one priority currently. Who knows what that jerk would do to him if he found out? Chinese water torturing, cement boots, or maybe he would force him to watch every Packer’s game ever: marathon style. Any one of those things could be easily done and he’d be powerless to stop it.

In vexation, the teenager slammed his fist into the dumpster and immediately jumped back with a yelp. He forgot he had bruised it earlier.

“Daniel?”

The teenager jumped and ducked behind the dumpster again. He had only gotten two steps! Why was Vlad backtracking?

Quickly peeking around the corner to where Vlad and Lancer had last been, the youth stalled. No one was there. Maybe ... it was an echo or something ... Or he was just going mad. Yeah, he could see that. His luck was terrible enough. 

“Daniel, were you hiding from me?” growled a familiar voice as Plasmius’ head suddenly popped around the top of the dumpster, peering down on the boy with a sour expression.

The younger halfa stared up at him in shock. Okay, was this madness or real? He thought for a second. He had terrible luck. So, of course, it's the real Plasmius. A fake one wouldn’t befit the world's personal grudge against him. Ugh, he didn't even have his ghost breath to warn him in the future. Something Vlad would probably notice. 

Danny quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and looked away from the older half-ghost as he tried to collect himself. He didn't need to blurt out he was powerless like an idiot or something. 

Plasmius raised a brow at this, “... Are you trying to ignore me, because you might want to rethink your tactics little badger.” 

The teen continued to stare at the wall, trying to tell himself not to panic. He didn't need powers to deal with Plasmius. He just had to keep a cool head and he would be fine. 

Sighing, figuring this was some kind of weird silent treatment, the older halfa tugged Danny out of his hiding place. The ghost waited for a backlash, but Danny just looked up at him, hand still covering his mouth as he sweated bullets.

Brow going higher at the odd behavior, Plasmius decided to fill the awkward silence, "Daniel, why did you go running off into the rain like that? I know I should have brought it up sooner, but is it really such a shock that I'm your godfather? I have been taking care of you this whole time after all."

Danny merely glared at the older man and continued to hold his hand over his mouth. Plasmius just continued trying to keep his cool, his lip twitching in irritation, “Is this some kind of weird silent treatment?”

When Danny didn’t answer, the half-ghost rolled his eyes. “Fine, do you want to fight first and then talk after I have defeated you because this silent treatment is doing little for conflict resolution.”

The teenager twitched at this and then removed his hand from his mouth, choking, “Or we could _not_ fight."

Plasmius stared at Danny like he grew a second head or something. That was so out of character that he couldn't help but reach forward and try to touch the teen's forehead, "Are you feeling ill, little badger, or is this some weak attempt to make me feel bad about not telling you about my godhood sooner?"

The teenager batted away the hand, nearly shouting, "I'm not sick and you should have told me!”

Glad that the teen was acting normally again, the billionaire chuckled deeply in his throat. The kid still needed a slap in the back of the head for running off like that, but at least he was acting like little badger again.

Clearing his throat, Plasmius spoke calmly, “Daniel, listen. Yes, I should have told you sooner about being your legal guardian, but I was just worried about your reaction. Which, in fairness, I guessed correctly. You overreacted.”

Danny growled slightly yet the man continued.

“But I was wrong not to tell you sooner, Daniel. It was unjust of me,” ended Plasmius, not an ounce of trickery or lies in his voice. This was only the pure, calm truth.

“Who … who … who are you?” asked Danny as he took a step back, Plasmius’ sincerity creeping him out. Yep, this was all madness. He was going insane. 

Plasmius rolled his eyes and made a grab for the teenager, "Alright, you had your bout of freedom. Come, its time to go back. Your bandages are probably soaking wet by now." 

“No. You never apologize. What are you up to? Did you send the bat-thing? I'm not going anywhere with you," continued Danny as he sidestepped the taller man. This wasn't right. Maybe Vlad was just being nice, but Vlad was never nice. Maybe he was losing it.

The older half-ghost didn’t miss a beat though, lashing out with his other arm to pull the teen too him. Danny yelped, but Vlad paid it no mind, "You're rambling now Daniel. We are getting out of the rain _now_. You look unwell. Clammy at that.”

Plasmius pulled the boy against him so that he could cover the teen with his cape. Danny squirmed at first until he noticed that he was indeed shivering. He fought with his pride for a moment before he groggily accepted the shelter. He did feel kind of off.

Trying not to pout, he allowed Plasmius to dry his head slightly with the top of his cape. He was cold and strangely it was nice to have some human contact; even if it was the fruitloop. Jazz had been a hugger, dad was always slapping him on the back or ruffling his hair, and Mom always liked to nuzzle the top of his head. Now ... now he had no one to offer soft niceties.

“Okay, let's go, little badger,” said the older half-ghost once Danny had stopped shivering so violently.

“What?” complained the teenager, peaking from under the cape, “My feet hurt and it’s cold. No way am I going to walk.”

Plasmius laughed and said in a surprisingly warm tone, “Daniel, we’re flying. Now turn into Danny Phantom and let’s get going. I want you out of the rain as soon as possible with your health as it is.”

_No flying powers. Hmm, I wonder if he’ll notice. _

Fumbling for something to say, Danny squeaked, “Um … I’m airsick.”

_Oh, that’s priceless. I just as well state I forgot my ghost powers at home._

Plasmius stared at Danny, his brow nearly in his hairline, “Air Sick? What are you talking about? You've never been airsick before in our quarrels. Now turn into Phantom and let’s depart. Lancer and the real me will be at the hospital any minute now.”

“No,” the teenager growled as he took a step back out of the cape-shelter. The older ghost’s eyes glowed in irritation and Plasmius merely took a step closer, not put off by the teenager’s stubbornness.

“Now,” growled Plasmuis as he glared down at the teenager.

Unfortunately, the child merely took another step back, ready to flee as he murmured, “Not going to happen.”

Closing his eyes as he pinched his nose bridge, the older half-ghost sighed and decided to try to compromise, “And why in the Sam-Hill not?”

“Uh … I just ate. You know the rule. You can’t fly after eating for thirty minutes. So … yeah. Stomach cramps,” tried Danny as he took another step back, ready to practice his track and field. He never thought he would be glad to have Dash as a bully. There was always plenty of running. 

“You have been missing for over thirty minutes and you barely even ate at the banquet. You just picked at it,” groused the man, trying to decide why he cared again. "Give me a real reason, Daniel."

“Okay ... Well …_Bye_.”

And with that, Danny turned and fled in the opposite direction. Sadly, the ground was slippery, causing the young athlete to slip. His burnt arm then slammed into the dumpster causing jets of pain to run up his spine. The teenager quickly dropped onto his knees and barked out in agony, gripping his shoulder tightly as he tried to cut off the feeling. The older half ghost’s irritation was gone in a moment as he ran over to the cringing boy, leaning down next to him as he tried to look at the injured arm.

“Daniel, let me see,” begged Plasmius as he tried to see what had happened, but Danny only held his arm tighter and whimpered softly.

Only after some insistent probing, Plasmius finally got Danny to stop hugging his arm in a death grip. It didn’t look broken since there were no weird angles, but Plasmius pulled the sleeve up regardless which revealed bloody bandages. The burn wound hadn’t bled through for a while now. A bad sign he was sure. With a heavy sigh, the billionaire knelt down a little further and tried to pick up Danny up like a child. The teenager merely whimpered something about not being a baby but that didn’t stall Plasmius.

It was then, the teenager in his arms, that Vlad noticed something. “Daniel, how long have you had this fever?”

“I don’t have a fever. Now put me down you fruitloop-kidnapper,” said Danny weakly, but he knew that even if he did break free he’d have to go to the hospital anyway. His arm had gone completely numb. “I’m not a baby.”

The billionaire’s temper finally broke, the man barking, “Then stop acting like one. Now, hold on.”

And with that, Plasmius shot off into the stormy skies. 

…

“You let him go out into the rain?” barked Dr. WebKing, galvanized.

Vlad frowned in distaste as he tried to wipe his soaking hair in a towel. “Hardly. He went out into the rain of his own accord. For nearly an hour I have been looking for him. He did this to himself.”

Dr. WebKing only huffed in response and returned to his patient. Danny had been stripped of his wet clothing, dried, dressed in an unflattering hospital gown, and put into his warm hospital bed. The good doctor poked and prodded the wounded arm as the nurse quickly unwrapped the wet bandages. A frown slowly penetrated the man’s usually gentle face.

“Nurses, see which stitches popped. You, follow me,” said the aging man as he exited the room signaling the billionaire to follow.

The soft clapping of the two men’s shoes filled the hall as they entered the doctor’s office. WebKing quickly poured himself a cup of coffee and then sat down at his desk signaling for Vlad to sit in the opposite chair. Then, after taking a sip of his life-giving liquid, the doctor said, “Listen here, Mr. Masters. I know you had plans, but that boy is not going anywhere, especially not tomorrow.”

Vlad frowned heavily at the doctor’s words and slowly made up his mind as Dr. WebKing drank his cup of coffee. “The boy's health does come first. So, I suppose, I’ll just have to leave without him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WebKing is the name of a woodshop teacher from my high school days. The man has to be 6/4 or something, but he’s still a pushover. ;)


	7. Pleasantly Optimistic

Danny curled deeper into his blankets, careful not to touch his wounded arm as he did so. It was already morning and quite cold outside judging by the rain that was still pelting against the window. The clobbering of heavy shoes finally forced the teenager out of his dreamlike state. He yawned loudly, kicked off his blankets, and looked over to the bed Vlad usually slept in. Moneybags wasn’t there. This would have usually been normal, but his Packers football pillow was missing.

The hairs on the back of the teenager’s neck rose in distress. Where was he?

After ten minutes of pretending not to care where the millionaire was, Danny finally couldn’t take it anymore. Did the man leave him alone finally? Was Vlad mad at him for the fight they had yesterday and had decided to keep his distance?

“Well, he deserved it. Sneaking up on me with that little surprise,” _Not that being someone’s godfather was a little thing_, Danny thought bitterly.

“Well … it was kind of obvious, but he's still a jerk!” Danny continued to talk to himself like someone from a mental institution until he heard the squeak of sneakers. The figure of Thomas slowly passed by and Danny found himself calling out to him.

The tall muscular nurse, Thomas, slipped, sliding a foot or two as he came to a halt in front of Danny’s door. “What’s up, my man? You feeling better?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, finally realizing his fever was gone. “Hey Thomas, where’s Vlad?”

Thomas scratched at the stubble on his chin for a second. “ … Vlad Masters?”

“Yes.”

“Gone.” The male figure said simply before his beeper went off. “Whoa, I gotta go. We'll talk later kid.”

And before Danny could ask any more questions, the nurse had run off with worries of his own.

_Gone_. A simple word on its own, but it was accompanied by so many other questions: _Where? Why?_

Danny hated being lost in his own thoughts, especially recently, so he pulled himself out of bed, ignoring the protests of his aching muscles. The teenager then wandered aimlessly around his room still lost in his thoughts. Vlad had left him. It was as simple as that. Did he abandon him? Was he left alone permanently? did Vlad realize Danny wasn't worth the effort?

Danny didn’t get it! Not the questions but the fact that he was sad that Vlad left without saying anything. Why should he be sad? Vlad hated him and he hated Vlad. That was how it had always been. He should be grateful that Vlad was gone.

And yet … a silent tear slid down his cheek. Everyone was gone. Vlad was all he had left and deep down a small part of him knew that. 

Nonetheless, he violently wiped away the tear and left his empty room.

…

Danny sulked for the rest of the day. The same questions kept roaming over Danny’s mind, mocking him like a buzzing insect. Why did Vlad leave without saying a word? Why weren’t his ghost powers working? Why did that flaming thing kill his family and not him? The most irritating question that seemed to hang heavily on his mind was: _why the hell did he miss that irritating jerk_? These questions frustrated him with such ferocity that he wanted to take the nearest stethoscope and strangle something with it.

So, to ignore the need for an unpleasant murder, Danny continued to walk aimlessly around the hospital, occasionally running into glass doors when he wasn't paying attention.

The teenager had just run into his second glass door near the waiting room and was rubbing his nose as he tried not to curse in public, “Stupid mother ... ugh. Why do they have to make the glass so clean?”

Immediately, a voice quipped behind him, "Well, it isn’t clean anymore. It has your face's outline on it."

Danny turned around, already mortified, expecting to see Dash or some other jerk from school. Instead, it was Mr. Smith. The man was a jerk, yes, but not as infuriating as Dash and his peers. The lawyer was currently seated in one of the waiting room chairs reading the newspaper. Danny rolled his eyes. What his parents saw in this overprice suit-monkey was beyond him. Then again, if it had been his dad that hired the man, he could see the reasoning behind it. _Must have been one of mom’s off days_.

“Hello, Mr. Smith. What are you doing here?” asked the child suspiciously. “If you want to see Vlad, he left.”

“Did he now?” asked the man in a slightly worried tone which was quickly covered up with a warm smile, “Well, doesn’t matter. I’m here on a case for Mr. Paulson. He wants to sue the sleeping pill company and the whiskey company for making such convincing labels. He says they made him try to commit suicide.”

Smith laughed heartily with a fangy smile like it was all a big joke.

Danny, besides himself, could only grimace wondering how that was funny. Maybe ... Mr. Smith just had a dark sense of humor. 

Smith, seemingly oblivious to the teenager's stiff posture, patted the seat next to him. "Come sit next to me, Danny. You seem a bit down. Wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

"Depends," said Danny with a shrug, taking the offered seat. "Are you going to charge me for this advice."

Rodger at first look surprised before laughing, "Well, Vlad won't notice a few more minutes on his bill."

Slouching his shoulders, snorting at his godfather's expense, Danny was at first not going to say much. But, there was just something about Rodger Smith ... that made him want to talk. So, he did.

“I better run up the bill then," said the teenager bitterly, as he waved a hand in the air. "He just ... he just. He's a jerk. He just blindsided me with this whole godfather thing and then left. Are you sure Vlad is my godfather or at least made sure my parents weren't possessed when they signed the paperwork? Their signatures have to be fake because there's no way my parents would willingly leave me with _him_.”

The lawyer blinked as if surprised by the outburst before he laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t much care for him, do you?”

Sitting up straighter, Danny found a familiar anger returning. A feeling that had been deadened by mourning and regret. The fire was still there though ... and it had not forgotten what Vlad Masters was.

And it was angry at everyone.

“No! I don’t know why mom and dad left me to him. Lancer would have been better! And now, all of a sudden, he just leaves without even a word just when I thought he cared. Just went I started to believe that I … I wasn’t alone.”

Shutting up, a little fearful about what he had just said aloud, Smith merely gave Danny a sad smile before reaching into his briefcase. He then pulled out what looked like a simple notebook and handed it to the confused teenager. His words were simple and yet oddly comforting. “I’m sure he feels the same way. Adopting can be hard on both parties, but the best thing to do is express yourself in a healthy manner. Since Vlad isn’t here, why don’t you just write down what you want to say to him … or anyone you can’t speak to at the moment. Souls are eternal.”

Danny blinked, surprised by the man’s sudden wisdom. There was certainly something odd about him.

“Thanks …”

…

Smith had wandered off shortly after giving Danny the notebook. He had people to see apparently and had left the teenager to his own devices. Danny, not knowing what else to do, soon found himself in the cafeteria with his newly acquired notebook. He could write about anything. His feelings, his fears, his worries, things to say to Vlad when the abandoner returned. He could also write to his family. He could write about his dreams and his hopes for a future that they were no longer part of.

And that hurt.

He didn't want to hurt anymore.

And so, the longer he sat there, staring at those horizontal lines, the more enraged he became. So, feeling vindictive, the teenager started to write in a vigorous manner.

_Ten Ways to Kill Vlad Masters_

_By Danny Fenton_

_1) Poison cappuccino with arsenic. (Where do you get that stuff?)_

_2) Push him off a cliff. (Hopefully, he doesn’t want to fly.)_

_3) Smother him with a pillow. (And then he doesn’t phase through it!)_

_4) Drown him in a bathtub. (And he doesn’t blast a hole in the side of the tub and let all the water out.)_

_5) Say you want to learn how to be a man through hunting, shoot him, and claim it was a hunting accident. (Hopefully, he doesn’t go invisible.)_

_6) Push him into a bed of nails. (Wait … um …blood … ugh.)_

_7) Push him down a flight of stairs! (Wait isn’t that for pregnancies?)_

_8) Leave a sub sandwich, with mayonnaise on it, out in the sun and feed it to him. He might get food poisoning and die. (Does Vlad even eat subs?)_

_9) Poison his sushi. (I still need arsenic.)_

_10) Make him watch the speed channel! He’ll die of boredom. (Does he even have cable?)_

_11) Make him donate blood. (Wait … how is that deadly?)_

Danny finally slammed his head into the table once he noticed he was on eleven and all of his ideas sucked anyway. Why couldn’t he even come up with a good murder scheme? Pluto of the Underworld, had he really been this stupid his whole life and hadn’t noticed until now.

"This is stupid. Killing him probably wouldn't even make me feel better," groused Danny, his anger drowned. "Maybe I should just write angry poetry."

Staring at the horizontal lines for a moment more he drew a few lines. Circles intertwining with each other, but there was one circle that was alone. By itself. Just like he was by himself. 

“I'm not lonely," growled the teenager as he slammed the notebook shut. Honestly, it felt as if someone was making plans behind his back in a chess game. And he had no plans on being anyone’s pawn.

…

Elsewhere sat a man with a lot on his plate and not of the foodstuffs kind. He was a business owner, a scientist, a football fan and an oddity of the supernatural. Not that he was any of those things right now. He was a man … a man struggling to figure out what it meant to be a father or a caretaker in the very least.

It was far more stressful than any business contract.

Sitting before his desk, a day of business having settled in his bones, Vlad leaned into his hands glad for the sturdiness of his cherrywood desk. He was feeling old and worn, and he didn’t know in the least how to deal with a broke and angry teenager.

Yet, the silence could not continue. Suddenly, the door slammed open, a cloud of ghostly smoke sneaking in. Vlad automatically tightened. He had sent most of his ghostly underlings away since his recent discovery about his godson, so that left only one ghost. “Skulker were the dramatics really necessary?”

Smirking, the hunter came into the room, ghostly mist settling at his feet. He then slammed a ghost cage on the table, scattering Vlad’s paperwork to all corners of the room like scattering birds. The millionaire glared at the spirit before him for a moment, a mixture of repugnance and curiosity churning in his stomach. What was with the cage of ghost mice?

“I managed to de-ghost the house of any unwanted personnel,” added the spirit in his usual cocky tone as he sat down and propped his feet up in Vlad’s desk, “That is except for the Dairy King. He’s quick for one so fat.”

The hunter then leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable. There was a moment of silence before the ghost dropped his feet from the desk, leaning forward to ask Vlad a question, as if it were a secret, “Why did you want me to de-ghost the house anyway?”

The half-ghost’s lip twitched and he leaned back, seemingly tired as he grumbled, “I was calling in an interior design… I have to prepare a room for a long term guest.”

“A long term guest, huh?” asked Skulker, his expression a little more serious. “Does it have anything to do with a rumor I heard about the ghost child?"

Vlad's knuckles turned white and he wanted to blast Skulker for his uncanny knowledge, but resisted. He had invited the hunter into his territory so making an enemy of the hunter wouldn’t be a brilliant idea. Besides, he kind of respected the spirit. “Your perceptiveness is uncanny, Skulker. Pray tell, where did you hear that?”

It was silent for a moment more, the air thick with tension. The grin on the hunter’s face had dispersed complete at this point like sand in the wind. Dropping his feet off the desk, Skulker eyes glowed darkly, “I have my ways … now tell me. Where is the ghost child? My wall is awaiting his pelt.”

The hunter didn’t even get to finish his rant though when Vlad suddenly burst to his feet, his form seeming dark and foreboding as the man’s eyes glowed, light bleeding away from his face in a display of rage and power.

“For your information, Skulker,” came the half ghost in an almost sad tone, “Daniel isn’t here yet. He’s presently at the Greenwood Hospital. He _will_ be coming to live here because there’s no one left to take care of him. Personally, I would rather have that growing power of his somewhere I can observe and control it. I don't need some kind of wild card running about. So, this castle is to be a home to him ... even if I have to move some Packers’ memorabilia to make room for him. It’s nothing compared to what that boy's lost.”

“Well, I didn’t see that coming,” said Skulker, slouching in his seat slightly after a moment of thoughtful silence. This was certainly an interesting development. He had noticed Vlad’s strange behavior earlier, but he never expected that the old bachelor had become a parent on his trip.

The hunter sighed after a brief thought. He was going to regret this. It was best for one to get out of a situation before they could become attached, but it was a bit late for that. Vlad owned more than his loyalty after all.

“And as much as I despise the whelp, I will help you keep the child under wraps,” added Skulker seriously as his wicked grin returned, Vlad giving him an unconvinced glance. “Besides, who else is going to give you design ideas? Honestly, I think we should plaster the brat’s room in dead animal skins. Fur rugs and stuffed heads abound.”

Vlad, despite himself, looked dumbfounded for a moment before he threw his head back in a laugh, his smile returning, “Am I decorating a room for Daniel or you, Skulker?”

“Well, if things with the whelp don’t work out, you can always adopt me,” joked Skulker with a cheeky grin. “So, can I tell the interior designers what to do?”

The depression chased away for a moment, Vlad slowly stood up and walked over to one of the painted windows to stare out. The light danced in small triangles, lightly touching his face in an almost a loving manner as if trying to soothe him in some way. The man reached up, his fingers feeling the cool glass. He needed to think.

“Do whatever you think is best, Skulker, but please at least appear to be human. I don’t need the help being scared off because right now I need some time to myself.”

Rising to his own feet, wondering what disguise he could scrounge up, Skulker asked blatantly, “Good or bad thoughts if I may ask?”

Smiling slightly, happy with Skulker’s promise for assistance when it came to dealing with Daniel, Masters murmured, “Right now, pleasantly optimistic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short filler chapter, but I thought the list was kind of funny at least. Also, Skulker is the best! I love him.


	8. Redecoration

It was a surprise, to say the least when a loud hammering sound disturbed Vlad from a pleasant nap on his desk. Swiping away a piece of paper, the man looked away with blinking owl eyes. His head automatically turned to the side to ask Daniel why he was making that racket, but then he stalled … he wasn’t in the hospital anymore. He wasn’t even in the same state as the boy. This was his office, wasn’t it?

Suddenly, there was more tromping, a metallic voice barking one thing or another. A familiar voice.

Rising to his feet, groggily trying to straighten his tie because it seemed like he had fallen asleep in his suit, Vlad slowly opened his office’s heavy oak doors and glared out at the main entrance. For a moment, he stared, too tired to truly comprehend why all these people were wandering up and down the stairs with large boxes and furniture. What was going on here?

It wasn’t until he saw a huge television being dragged in through the thrown-open front doors that he stumbled out of his office. He tried straightening up as he stalled next to a large figure that looked ex-military save for one detail: he green hair and black sunglasses that were hiding the man’s eyes.

“You call buying a flat-screen TV redecorating? I thought you were doing the boy’s room,” stated the billionaire in a dry sarcastic tone as he threw the ghost a look who, at the moment, was barking something about surround sound and a home theatre.

The ghost didn’t even look over at Vlad as he eyeballed the movers. Only when the main entrance had become slightly less crowded did Skulker speak, his metallic tone obviously not belonging to his disguise. Really, these movers must have been half-blind not realize how inhuman Skulker was; some of his disguise just looked like foundation on metal.

Where did he even get the foundation? And was that even his color?

“I am! I am also setting up a home theatre with all the fixings so that you can have a mocking expression of _family time_,” countered Skulker as he titled his sunglasses down slightly, his eyes glowing behind his weak disguise.

“Family time?” questions the billionaire as he stared at the new leather couch and matching chairs that were slowly moved into the new family room. What happened to his themed couches and his Packer cut-outs that had been in that room?

“You should be thanking me,” stated the ghost as he pointed up the stairs, a king-sized mattress heading up the stairs.

Vlad gave him a tired look.

“Plasmius you are a fricken billionaire and you don’t even have cable. The only thing that even resembles entertainment of a visual kind is that stupid theater that plays Packer's reruns,” said the ghost as he cringed at that thought. 

“I’m doing you and the welp a huge favor by adding the family room,” Skulker added duly.

“Welp?” murmured the man as he raised a brow.

Skulker took a step forward and eyed the room’s growing presentation, “The ghost child. It is a well-known fact that normal American teenagers can’t survive without media. They apparently can have breakdowns if the impute of useless knowledge is denied too long.”

Despite it being early, his clothes wrinkled and his morning coffee not yet in his hand, Vlad actually cracked a smile and chuckled darkly at the frog’s lack of knowledge. “Is that so?”

“Yes, now I have two words for you: new couch,” said Skulker as he headed into the new family room. “Watch me abuse it.”

Vlad rolled his eyes as he watched the metallic spirit flop down and turn on the newly set up television, the introduction of the _Exorcist_ quickly playing in the background, “You really are not going to sit on the couch all day, are you?”

A dry snort escaped the ghost, “There are three hundred channels on this thing. What do you think?”

…

Danny was angry. It wasn’t the normal kind of rage either. It was a mimicry to the emotion of abandonment. It had been two weeks and Vlad hadn’t even bothered to contact him. To make matters worse, he had no one to talk to and the loneliness was making itself known. Not even that strange Rodger Smith character that _apparently_ was on a new case involving a guy who had fallen into a huge vat of sporks was around. Not even the sane characters like Thomas were around. 

The teenager sighed, shoulders sagging as he walked past a little girl who ran away screaming ‘needles’ in the hall. Normally, he might have found that funny to watch the pediatrician chase after his young patient. Instead, the boy’s eye merely twitched at the _irritating_ volume her voice had taken on.

He was really starting to hate this place! It was like a prison where he'd ask every morning if he had any visitors. Unfortunately, his only possible visitor was Vlad or his English teacher … unless a spirit decided to kick up trouble.

The teenager stalled at the realization, a sadness forming in his eyes as he accepted the truth: he missed the Froot Loop.

“Stupid moneybags-jerk,” whispered Danny in disgust as he walked past a female nurse and a male intern with an eye patch, the two giving him an odd look since this was the third time he had wandered past the couple blindly.

Thoughts drowned in a collection of old rivalries and recent kindnesses left the teenager at ill-ease and soon Danny’s feet led him to a random destination where the couple wasn’t staring.

Danny immediately squinted as soon as his feet stepped outside and into the sunlight. ‘_The sunlight; it burns_’ was Danny’s expression as he walked through the hospital gardens with his hand shading his eyes. He stood there a moment, his gaze shifting over the landscaping. The weeping willows were the prettiest with their long dragging leaves overlooking a small koi pond. He immediately headed over there, taking a deep breath through his nose and flopping onto a stone bench. 

It was nice here. Quiet. 

And so he sat, watching the fish dance in their endless game as their little mouths nibbled at the surface. It had to have a good hour before the teenager was interrupted, "Hi, Danny.”

Danny twitched at the voice and was about to glare at whoever had spoken to him, wanting nothing more than to be alone, but he held his tongue when he looked up and noticed it was Dr. Webking.

His anger immediately drained. After all, it wasn’t wise to threaten one’s physician. Or however, the saying went.

“Oh … Hi. What’s up?” the teenager said carefully, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

The doctor sat on the bench beside him with a thump and put his hands into his doctor's jacket. He sat there a moment hoping the child would speak. When nothing came from waiting, he looked at the woe filled teenager and filled the silence. “What’s up, huh? Well, I thought I’d ask you the same.”

“What do you mean?” asked the teenager, feeling the loneliness in his heart settle into a place beneath his ribs. It was a feeling that he was still getting used to, this tightness in his chest. It happened whenever anyone talked to him in that soft tone. It was like they were preparing him for bad news. Personally, he hated it. Why couldn't everyone just talk to him normally ... like he wasn't some orphan-kid deserving of pity. 

“Nurses know everything, my dear boy. They told me that you have been wandering aimlessly and snapping at everyone,” said the doctor with a sad smile, which fit oddly under his whiskers, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” said Danny with a shrug.

“Oh, come now,” laughed the doctor, “I won’t bite.”

Danny fidgeted in his stone seat for a moment, feeling the hard surface nip at the fabric of the clothes he was wearing, “Well, it’s about my _situation_.”

“Situation?” questioned Dr. Webking as he ran his fingers through his beard as if thinking. "What do you mean?"

“I’m scared of what is to come of me,” suddenly bit out Danny, his hands grasping at his knees. He didn't know if he was shaking now because he was cold or because he was admitting his desperation. “What if Vlad has abandoned me? What if no one wants a teenager?”

The teen almost choked on his next words, “I’m going to an orphanage home, aren't I?”

The good doctor was still for a moment, his old eyes wandering over the saddened child’s face. Danny was really hurting inside, grasping almost wilding for a sliver of hope. Apparently, Danny had very few close contacts in his life, but the ones he did have were major mental supporters. Without them, and no one to replace that void, he was quickly falling apart.

The doctor's tone was soft, "A few days ago you acted like you would have rather been sent to an orphanage then go with Mr. Masters? Do you know how hard it was for your godfather to sign those adoption papers? A single man doesn’t make a life-altering decision like that lightly. Besides, I doubt he would invest so much emotion on something he was just going to throw away.”

Danny and Mr. Webking both sat there in silence for a moment, the wind blowing through the willow's spindly branches. Then, before the conversation could continue, the doctor’s beeper went off. Doctor Webking’s mouth murmured something sounding suspiciously like ‘sporks’ before he rose to his feet and gave a regretful nod.

“I got to go Danny, but we’ll continue this conversation later if you want,” said the chubby man with a wave as he made his way towards the hospital doors, his long jacket rippling in the wind.

Danny just pouted as he watched his company leave. Part of him wanted to say he didn't need anyone and to go angst in a corner for a moment, glaring at anymore that dared meet his gaze. 

"Being in a coma would have been easier than this," muttered the teenager to himself. "At least if I was asleep this all wouldn't be so horrible."

“A coma would be nice. No worries for the half-dead,” chirped a voice into his ear, the presence of another making the boy sit up straight. 

Danny jumped to his feet with a surprised gasp, turning around with a fighter’s instinct. His eyes darted back and forth in a panicked manner as he tried to identify the owner of the voice. His eyes suddenly found their target and his hands became fists. There, within the branches of a weeping willow sat the winged eye.

“Oh, it’s you,” grumbled the child remembering the thing’s mocking tone from their earlier meeting. Yet, despite the fact that the creature was trying to keep things from him, Danny asked, “Who or what are you?”

The weeping willow’s branches floated around in the wind like the hair of a goddess for a minute or two before the small creature answered, “All you need to know of me is that I go by the name of Gibgit.”

The eyeball waited for Danny’s reaction. When none came, he glided down from the wispy branches and landed on Danny’s shoulder like a parrot, its eyelid becoming a slit as if it were smiling.

“What are you doing here?” asked Danny as he ignored the impulse to pet the eyeball as it curled into his robe like a little chick looking for warmth.

Once seemingly settled, Gibgit’s purple iris focused on Danny’s glance and almost playfully stated, “Whatever I want.”

“_Whatever you want, huh? _That’s not a very good answer,” said Danny, his shoulder's loosening when it became apparent that Gibgit wasn't going to bite into his neck or anything and was likely just leaching heat from him. 

“Does one need a reason to make new friends?” inquired the small being as he dug into the collar of the halfling’s robe a little more like an insistent mouse.

“Lair,” moodily said Danny, his voice above a whisper. He had a heavy heart right now and the idea of friends was almost like poisoned honey. He missed Sam's and Tucker’s more than he could voice, even their irritating characteristics. Right now he’d even listen to Sam’s goth poetry just to hear the soft grating of her voice.

The eyeball sulked for a moment as if Danny’s mood had seeped through his skin and into the little thing. “Don’t be sad, young one. Things will get better.”

Danny hid his face in his sleeve as he wiped away a stray tear. The thought of Sam and Tucker made him want to sob. He didn’t even want to count how many times he thought about crying in a day, “Will they really?”

The human doubted it, but a small part wanted to hear _yes_ anyway.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“Yes. I and Mr. Masters are proof enough,” cooed the eyeball with a hopeful tone as he brushed one of his wings almost warmly over the back of Danny’s neck.

“If he is supposed to make everything better then why did he just leave? He didn’t say good-bye or anything. He acted like I was contagious.”

“Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. Goodbyes hurt and sometimes are too painful for people to say,” said Gibgit, his tone becoming a gentle whisper.

“Why did he even adopt me? He’s always hated me!” whispered Danny angrily, his voice taking on a biting growl like an abandoned dog that had been wandering the streets too long. 

“There is a thin line between love and hate,” whispered the eye as the leaves danced mercilessly in the wind next to the two of them. Danny, honestly, didn't know what to say to that. 

…

“Poor little female whelp,” choked Skulker as he wiped away his tears, Vlad merely sniffing haplessly in the couch’s corner cushion with a box of tissues at his side.

“What you watchin?” asked the Dairy King as he floated into the room carrying a wheel of cheese. It had been a busy day and finally, all the human help had finally gone to lunch. Now he was free to find a new place to stash his cheese collection.

“Extreme Makeover: The Home Edition,” whimpered Skulker. “Tissue?”

“I still don’t know how we got to this channel. Weren’t we supposed to be watching _Poltergeist_ or something?” said Vlad as he gladly took another tissue. “And shouldn’t we be checking on the movers and decorators’ work? It’s been nearly half a day since you barked an order at them.”

“You are right,” said Skulker as he looked at the digital watch on his wrist. “I should go yell at them at least a little bit. Come, let’s go see what I’ve decided to do with the whelp’s cage- I mean room.”

Vlad Master’s, rising to his feet, quickly followed after the badly disguised ghost, part of his mind noting that a box for a study desk was being dragged into the castle. It seemed Skulker was preparing well. Not that he expected less of the hunter. He did think of Skulker as a second in command for his territory after all but had yet to make it fully official. 

Humming to himself, the millionaire spoke his thoughts aloud, “Skulker? Do you know what grade Danny is even in? It hasn’t occurred to me until now, but should I have him homeschooled at first to keep an eye on him or should I be worried about social contact given his mental status?”

Tilting his own head in thought, the steps seeming to go on forever because the boy’s room likely was on the third floor, the hunter grumbled, “How would I know? I observed his habits more than what classes he was skipping. Also, you’re his godfather, not me, so really the choice is yours. I still think he would make a better rug than a pawn, Plasmius.”

“What about his hobbies? His favorite food? His favorite color?” asked Vlad as he ignored Skulker’s comment. All he could think about recently was the broken boy in the rain. His mental vision of Danny Phantom was slowly becoming more and more complicated as mixed feelings of worry replaced old irritations. “I don’t know anything about him, do I?”

Skulker was silent for a moment. The whelp wasn't a china doll. Then again, is this merely how all adoptive parents act?

“Don’t worry. You have plenty of time to figure those things out,” Skulker simply said as he stalled next to an open twin set of doors. “Now let’s see if they can follow orders. I don’t keep animals often, but even I think the welp will adapt well to confinement.”

Stepping into the room, observing it with a clinical eye, the billionaire murmured, “But Daniel is coming here in less than a week. I need to know these things."

“Even better. You'll have something to ask him during those awkward family time dinners," said Skulker almost coyly as he waved his hand at the whelp's new room. He hadn’t given the real decorators a lot of demands but he could certainly see where his influence was. “And don’t worry so much. The halfa is under your thumb now and territory. What’s the worst that could happen? I doubt he’s going to keel over dead.”

…

“Master? Master! Where are you?!” cried Gibgit as flew into the men’s bathroom, looking under each stall, having finally escaped Danny’s notice. It seemed that he had become the kid’s new pet. Danny had even snuck him into the hospital and into his room just for some extra company. Gibgit honestly had loved the attention, he really did, but he would always only have one Master.

“Quiet. I’m in here Gibgit.”

The eye flew over to the last stall and asked simply, “Are you decent?”

“Yes! Now get in here before someone sees you!” grumbled Smith from within the stall.

The eyeball flew over the stall wall and gasped, trying to cover his eye with his wing. Smith was perched on the stool.

“Master! You said you were decent!” Gibgit quickly closed his huge eye and did a suicide dive onto the bathroom floor since it was hard to stay afloat with only one wing.

“I am. I just needed a quiet place to think and read the newspaper. A place from peering eyes. My pants are still firmly attached to my body,” grumbled Smith as the man resisted the urge to crush the small creature underfoot.

“Oh… I didn’t notice,” said the eyeball stupidly as it opened up its huge eye.

“You’re a giant eyeball. How could you not notice?” said Smith sarcastically to his minion before adding in a calm whisper. “Have you noticed anything strange about the boy? Need for blood? Fire Hazard? Oprah obsession?”

“No sir. He’s just depressed, I’d say. I have been able to infiltrate his trust and earned his friendship. It should make it easier to watch him now,” whispered the eyeball with a squeal of joy as Smith nodded his head. Gibgit then discussed in full detail what Danny had said to him, Smith silently skimming the newspaper the whole time as he listened. Finally, the eyeball ran out of things to say and asked simply, "Master? What are we to do now? The boy doesn't have any of the signs you are looking for."

“I suppose we have to look elsewhere. That fire hazard is up to something even though I haven’t run into any of his usual destruction ... nothing except the Fenton family that is. But what confuses me the most is why he let Danny live," said the man, folding his paper. "So, one thing is for certain, that trouble maker isn't done with that boy yet and I plan on catching him red-handed.”

…

Two days had passed quickly enough, the world seeming to fill with warm colors besides grey. A promise of the future almost. Danny’s anger had simmered down some, and Gibgit was one step above that of a house cat, pets and scratches available whenever he showed up. And yet the scars were still there and seemed intent on letting themselves be known, especially when Danny suddenly awoke from his slumber with a _wail, _the late-night silence disturbed. He was quickly pulling his injured arm close, biting back a sudden sharp pain. It felt like flames were biting at his flesh all over again.

“God… why… won’t… these… pains… STOP!” cried the teenager as he doubled over in pain, curling into a ball under his covers.

Yet, as quickly as it came, it started to subsided and Danny’s breath slowly returned to normal. “Good … it’s over. Why are these pains still happening?”

Danny lifted up his shaking body, feeling the muscles tense up in his back. He still felt uneasy and put a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his stomach from turning. When the peace of his stomach returned, Danny decided to get some painkillers from the pretty nurse who worked the night shift. The covers were quickly thrown to the side and his feet landed on the cold flooring with a slap. He took two steps from his bed when a thousand fire hot needles pierced the flesh of his back, crushing his spinal cord with unimaginable pain. The teenager collapsed onto the floor in a huddle, his flesh making a smacking noise on the cold tiling. The boy whimpered slightly because he was unable to scream.

Feeling the tremors of pain run up his spine and lodge into the back of his skull, Danny managed to whisper through gasping breaths, “Please stop ... Please stop. I can't take this anymore.”

And it did stop, just as a set of shoes appeared before him, the world fading into black splotches.

And yet, darkness’s sweet void did not last forever. The teenager awoke in his bed what felt like days later, his mouth dry and his arm burning like holy fire. His eyes were gooey and exhausted, but with much persistence, he finally managed to open them completely.

Surprisingly, Vlad sat there limply on a chair beside the bed, his head tilted in a defeated manner. His white hair hung loosely around him, free to conceal his face almost entirely. The man didn’t move or make a sound, not even the sound of breathing.

Danny almost laughed at the sight, thinking that Vlad only appeared when he was in pain, but quickly found he couldn't even make that sound. His lips wouldn’t move.

Out of panic, Danny tried to sit up to see if maybe his lips had been sewn shut, but he couldn’t even get a finger to twitch! None of his muscles were reacting to his commands.

This was so bad.

Trying not to panic, Danny continued to struggle against his unmoving body until his arm started to burn menacingly. Then it came. The same nerve crushing pain that ran up his arm earlier. The boy was finally able to move though, only to give in to pain’s cruel caress. A wail escaped the boy, his good arm snapping onto his injured arm like a vice causing blood spots to form in the bandages. 

Vlad immediately jumped to his feet in shock, his speed causing the chair he was sitting on to fall over. Standing still only long enough to take in the scene, the exhausted man leaned over Danny’s bed railings and tried to free his arm, his mouth moving in words Danny couldn't comprehend currently. Pain was the boy's only friend right now. 

One more painstaking cry escaped the youth’s throat and then it was over. The episode was gone as quickly as it had come, his breathing broken and shaky as he waited for the dull throb to subside.

Vlad slowly took a shaky step back, overlooking the scene. He had had his personal jet fly here in a few hours after he got the call about Daniel’s collapse. This would be the second attack Danny had since he had left. It certainly was horrible to witness. Why were these attacks even happening? Things had been going so well with Daniel and the castle and now … this.

Sighing in worry, Vlad slowly leaned down to eye level with Danny whose face now lay hidden in the recesses of his blankets. With great care, Vlad pushed the covers away from the younger halfa’s face and peered at Danny’s face. There were fresh tears there along with this gaze of fear. It stung Vlad’s cold heart more than any mortal wound imaginable. He found his fatherly characteristics taking over, Maddie's soft voice echoing in his head as he pulled the whimpering boy into a hug, mindful of the injured arm.

Surprisingly, the teenager didn't press him away and Vlad sighed, thankful for that. A thousand heartbeats seemed to pass as Vlad murmured to the still shaking boy, “I hit the nurse’s button. They will be here in a moment to give you more pain medication. Just remain calm and breathe.”

A hiccup escaped the younger half-ghost as Danny choked, “Wh-why is this happening? I thought I was healing, but I’m not healing, am I? I’m dying, aren’t I?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel. Everything will be _fine_. I’m here and so are your doctors. You’ll be just fine,” said Vlad more to calm his inner worries then Danny’s because he wasn’t sure if the teenager was fine. After all, the first attack had just struck out of the blue and the new attacks just didn’t make sense. He was gone for a few days and this happens. What is going on here?!

A moment later Dr. Webking stormed in, a sturdy nurse stomping behind him ready to hold Danny still long enough to give him the shot. Luckily the attack was over and his assistance was no longer needed, but the male nurse’s expression was still dark as he turned to leave the doctor to his work … and an angry parent.

“What happened?! I thought you said the new medication would make the attacks stop!” barked Vlad. “It obviously didn't help!”

“But he did wake up. That is a good sign, Mr. Masters,” said the plump doctor as he headed over to the readings. "There was real worry about him going into a coma."

Vlad’s tone was almost a whisper as he pulled Danny into a little tighter grasp, trying to calm the boy’s violent shudders. “Can't you at least do something for the pain then? The boy was withering in his bed."

The aging doctor took a deep breath and removed the plastic cover over the needle, the man eying the tip, “We can always try a drip. How bad was it?”

“It was quick but it seemed just as bad as the others,” said the billionaire with a grim tone.

The doctor sighed at that, but he was prepared for bad news. Just another oddity to the boy that was Danny Fenton. He could only speculate that there had to be some type of chemical in the fire. The boy had technically lived in a lab after all. Who knew what damage they would find. Perhaps in being spared the fire, the boy had been given a worse fate. 

Life was cruel that way. 


	9. Body Bags

Vlad had curled up on the visitor’s chair by the window, his hair glaring softly in the moonlight. His eyes were closed and his breathing was calm. He looked peaceful and it was a strange look for the billionaire. So much so that one might have mistaken him for a heavenly being with the way moonlight was reflecting off him.

Danny stood in the middle of his hospital room looking at the floor. He had to make sure he didn’t step into the moonlight. His toes hung dimly on the borderline as he watched from the darkness, wondering why Vlad hadn’t woken up yet.

“Hey, Vlad,” he whispered, his voice echoing over the walls and through the hospital halls. No one was around, the hospital was still as if Danny and Vlad were currently the only occupants. Danny swallowed as a sense of panic rose up in his throat. He wanted to run over to Vlad and shake him, but he knew he couldn’t step into the light.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t. He just knew he _shouldn’t_.

Danny continued to look at the moonlight and the figure that lay within it. He took a silent step forward allowing his toes to be washed in the moonlight … and immediately a soft giggle came from behind him. The teenager quickly pulled his foot out of the waning light and peered over at the door. A small little girl, no older than five with crimson red hair, hid in the shallow shadows of the doorway. Her huge glassy eyes stared at him with such intensity that Danny wanted to look away.

“Who are you?” asked Danny, his voice hanging in the air.

The small child merely giggled as she disappeared into the hall. Danny, at first, didn't want to follow but neither could he shake off her ghostly charm. Despite himself, he silently obeyed.

Her soft footsteps filled the halls as she tracked past the empty waiting rooms and nurses’ offices. It was so deathly quiet that Danny started to become unnerved. Out of desperation, he took the small child’s hand when she offered it to him.

Smiling at his touch, she looked up at him with her huge eyes and stated in a soft breath, “I wish you would have held my hand more often Danny ... when it actually mattered.”

Danny almost drew away from her, but she held on tightly.

“How did you know my name?” the boy asked wearily.

“The question is how could I _forget_?” she then pulled gently on his arm and led him forward.

Soon, they emerged within what could only be the morgue, time seeming to skip as Danny looked around confused wondering how he had gotten here. Swallowing, he figured he had bigger problems as he felt the chill of death crawl up his spine. He stalled in his tracks wanting to look around, but his form seemed to be paralyzed. He couldn’t move on his own!

The girl looked up at him with a frown when she noticed how stiff he was. Sighing, as if it was merely a minor nuisance, she yanked roughly on Danny’s arm and forced him to stand before one of the stainless steel morgue tables. A glossy black body bag lay lifelessly upon it. The orange tag labeling the body bag grimly reflected his father’s name: Jack Fenton. Danny swallowed and tilted his eyes down to the little girl with a begging glance. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t even move on his own!

“Open it. Sometimes we must face what we can’t accept,” whispered the girl as she let go of Danny’s hand, his form almost stumbling as he reestablished the ability to move on his own.

Rubbing his wrist, a part of him knowing his stiffness had been the redhead's fault, he turned his attention to the body bag. He really didn’t want to open anything and yet he knew he had to. And he had to do this alone… No one could help him.

Standing over the bag, hand floating over its smooth blackness for what felt like an eternity, Danny could no longer take the redhead’s constant gaze. His hands shook violently as he put his fingers on the zipper. Giving a meek tug, the zipper came down with far too much ease and he found his eyes snapping shut. And yet, before his eyes closed, he caught sight of the burnt figure. Jack’s lower jaw had burned away into nothing and the skin of the chest had been charred to the bone. And yet, wanting to see his father if even for a moment, Danny reopened his eyes … to find nothing but an empty body bag.

Despite the disappearance, a sigh of relief escaped Danny’s throat, but then his gaze fell upon the next body bag on the next table: Maddie Fenton.

Not wanting to be led by the strange little redhead, the teenager’s body shook violently as he walked over to that body bag. His hand wasn’t as uncertain this time, but he still closed his eyes imagining the worst: his mother’s pale face burned away to nothing and her red locks scorched black. But when he opened his eyes there was once again … nothing.

Swallowing, almost disappointed, Danny truly recalled how much he missed her. His mom might have been a bit crazy, but she was still his mother. She was the one who held him when he was scared or lonely and bandaged his boo-boos as a child.

She had loved him like no other.

Next was Sam, a cold aching occurred in his heart. Remembering her grating voice and soft hands were the most painful thing he could imagine. He had been gathering the courage for the past three months to ask Sam out on a date, but now that option was beyond him.

Trying to push back the tears blurring his vision, Danny pulled the zipper down with his eyes closed again. Her perfect face still held its uncanny beauty, but her hair had burned away to the scalp as if her entire back had been charred away. Wiping away tears at the thought, when he opened his eyes … and again there was nothing. A sick part of himself was half wishing that she was there if only to touch her cold flesh one last time.

Next was his best friend in the world: Tucker. Tucker the computer geek. Tucker the weirdo. Tucker … the most wonderful friend in the entire world. Danny swallowed roughly as a choking pain tried to escape his throat. The zipper cried in protest as Danny’s eyes dimmed, his vision blurred by tears. In his mind, Tucker’s glasses were burnt and blackened, and his dark skin had taken on a blacker tint, but yet again there was nothing in the body bag.

Enraged that he couldn’t even look at Tucker, Danny stormed to the next table with the next body bag. The tag stated: Jazz Fenton. So this was the bag for his kind yet over-protective sister. Hands shaking in rage, Danny pulled the zipper down without a hint of uncertainty. This time ... there was something in the body bag. It was a …

“A ribbon?” he asked, picking it up.

“Oh! I’ve been looking for that!” cooed the little redhead as she ran over, taking the item before she tied said ribbon into her glossy hair. “Okay … I’m bored. Let’s go.”

The child then skipped away and out of the swinging doors that bore the word _morgue_. Danny could hear her soft humming slowly fade away as she moved further and further down the hall.

Not wanting to be left behind, he quickly stormed after her, but when he faced the morgue door a soft electric humming caught his ear.

ZZZZ … zzzith

Beside himself, Danny slowly turned and looked for the sound’s origin. In the far corner, lost in a dark haze, was a ceiling lamp that flickered unsteadily. One last body bag hid in its gloom.

Ignoring the feeling in his gut, Danny silently made his way to the far corner of the room. And soon the teenager looked down on the immobile object. A combination of fear and dread bit down on his nerves when he saw that there was no tag. He slowly grabbed the zipper and pulled, expecting to find nothing or at most another hair garment … but no. There it lay. Correction, there he lay, a fleshy corpse pale with death. Its skin had gained a yellow clammy look and his hair was limp and lifeless. Danny couldn’t help but whimper as he stared at his lifeless copy ... a dead clone of himself.

Sorrow overcame his heart and his fingers silently reached forward. He wanted to touch this dead copy … this death. And though he knew he shouldn’t, his warm fingers soon laid upon the dead flesh of his cheek and then over the eyelids. The figure was cold as a winters eve. Was this a sign? Was he truly meant to die? Or was he already dead? Had everything up to this point been a flash before his eyes? An earthly vision before death? Had he really died with his family?

Danny stared at the flesh before him … unable to tell what was truth and what was a dream.

Touching his corpse’s cheek once more Danny memorized the body's face. It had the same brow, the same lips, the same everything. It was him.

Sighing, not knowing what else to do, he started to zip it back up.

“Wait… I’m not done with you yet.” 

Danny choked out a scream at the voice, the corpse having just parted its blue lips to speak. Panicked, the frightened teenager stumbled back into one of the morgue tables causing a crash behind him. The lifeless copy merely grinned at this as it lifted itself out of the body bag. The corpse then landed on the floor in a hunched position; perfectly concealing its face behind a wall of black hair. Danny could only stare at the grotesque posture as he slid backward against the metal table, pushing himself into a corner quite effectively.

The corpse’s smile widened at this as it stood up straight and then with too-quick reflexes, the corpse was suddenly placing an arm on either side of Danny’s head, trapping him against the wall. Danny could only stare at the copy with a silent terror, unable to scream or even move.

“Where are you going? Leaving so soon?” the corpse spoke in a harsh scratchy manner, its shark-like teeth glimmering in the flickering light. “You can’t leave. It’s not polite and … I won’t let you.”

The corpse’s left hand quickly wrapped around Danny’s neck, holding the teenager still. Then, with a small laugh, the corpse’s free hand began to change: _mutate_. The nails slowly started to grow and expand into long daggers of flesh and revealed finger bones. Its eyes widened with excitement as it seemed to ready itself to scoop out Danny’s heart… “Goodbye little halfa.”

“_Danny?”_

Danny suddenly fell to the ground in a huddle, his heart intact and the corpse no longer above him. He coughed as he struggled for breath, his mind racing. Why wasn’t he dead?

With shaking limbs, Danny lifted his head to look around for his would-be murderer, but the corpse was gone. The only other occupant of the room was the small little girl with red hair and ghostly eyes. Her voice almost made him cry in relief.

“What are you still doing in here, silly? It’s unwise to linger in the dead’s playground.”

Danny slowly nodded at her. Then, with a huff, the half-ghost stood trying to encourage his brain that it was all an illusion or something.

Noticing the boy’s shaking nature, the child took his hand once again and led him out of the morgue, a hum in her throat. And despite the fear of being frozen, Danny did not let go of his small savior’s hand.

…

The two seemed to have walked around the empty corridors for hours until the tiny girl’s humming came to a halt. She stopped and then stared at the shadows in front of them … at the waiting room to be exact.

“What? Is it the corpse?” asked Danny, his voice cracking as his spare hand came to rest on his throat.

The redhead looked at him for a moment and then turned her attention to the chair in front of them, tv static echoing over the small waiting room while casting an eerie light. In the television’s soft glare, Danny couldn’t help but noticed that on top of a waiting room chair sat an ancient-looking box the size of a jewelry box. It looked like something that belonged in a Greek museum. Its surface was delicately carved in gold and shiny black stone. Greek symbols skillfully adored the lid as it glimmered in the faint light. Despite his worry about the morgue, Danny found himself letting go of the red head’s hand as he walked over to it, mesmerized. With daring fingers he even found himself reaching outward ready to open up the glossy lid, but the ghostly girl slapped his hand to the side at seemingly the last moment.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” she murmured warningly.

And yet, before Danny could ask her why not, a dinging noise filled the eerily quiet hospital. _Ding_ … _Ding_ … _Ding_: the strike of midnight. 

“I’d hate to say it, but in the words of Cinderella: _I’m sorry. I must go. Goodbye,_” whispered the girl as she wandered out of the waiting room, pecking Danny softly on the cheek before she left. “Love you, baby brother.”

“… Jazz?” choked Danny as he took a step forward, memories of old pictures coming to mind. "Is that really you?"

The redhead merely smiled sadly before wandering into the hall without another word. Danny could only stare at her fading form with a shocked expression. Was that really his sister? Maybe he was dead after all.

“It doesn’t matter. I am not letting her go this time,” growled Danny in a determined tone, his bare feet soon following the little girl in the darkening halls.

But she was seemingly gone. He had been looking for her for about twenty minutes, but Danny still couldn’t give up on the search. Every fiber of his being seemed to rest on two questions. Was that really Jazz? If so, was he really dead? Danny shook off his worry and stormed down the next hall. He had to find her.

_Giggle_…

Danny turned around violently, ready to race after the sound, but there was no need. There, not even two yards away, stood the girl.

“Jazz?” whimpered the teenager feeling the hunger of sorrow well up in his chest. The child merely giggled in reply before she ran into a nearby room.

Danny couldn't really tell if it was Jazz, but just when he was about to chase after her he tripped on something in the hall.

He was on the floor with a blink, his butt smarting.

Growing in irritation, he picked up the item with ease, a brow raising in confusion, "A book on mythology? Why is this here?"

_Giggle_…

Danny jumped remembering his earlier pursuit. He got to his feet with stumbling speed and started after the laughter, leaving the book behind.

The child's laugh led him back … back into that haunting room. He stared at the moonlight that still softly glared off his godfather’s sleeping form. From behind Vlad’s chair came a giggle, a form shifting behind the chair. For some reason, the teenager found his fear of the moonlight only intensified.

A minute or two quickly passed and nothing bad happened, Vlad still snoozing softly. Only after gathering what little courage he had left, Danny stepped into the moonlight … and nothing happened.

Courage restored, Danny took the next few steps forward trying to choke down the fear in his stomach. The teenager’s shadow soon loomed over his godfather and Danny slowly reached forward ready to wake the sleeping billionaire. But, instead of waking the man, a pale-fleshed hand intercepted and wrapped its cold fingers around Danny’s wrist. Before Danny could even gasp, a form rose from the shadows behind the chair. 

That child wasn't Jazz ... it was the corpse.

Breath catching, ready to grab at his only ally in the world, Danny barely had time to choke as a hand was slammed into his chest, the force throwing him several feet backward!

Danny flew across the room with a gasp and landed with a thud against the neighboring wall. A few bones cracked in protest, but through gathering tears of pain, Danny was able to look up. It was definitely his dead copy. Its cold waxy flesh was even glinting dully in the fading light as it stalked toward him.

Panicking, the teenager tried to lift his beaten body up to escape the beast, but he was too slow. A deep part of him knew he couldn’t _go ghost _because this was his ghost. 

With a snap, the corpse had once again wrapped its cold dead fingers around Danny’s neck, cutting off his breathing. Kicking his feet out, the teenager struggled for a single breath as the corpse’s copycat fingers transformed into daggers once more. The beast then lifted his elbow up and targeted Danny’s heart. A high-pitched laugh quickly floated past the corpse’s shark-like teeth and with sickening precision … it plunged the daggers into Danny’s chest.

Speckles of crimson splash over the wall and instantly a river of blood seeped away from Danny’s gaping wound. Blood dripped from the monster’s face like dark tears as he watched Danny’s last flailing moment. Then, as Danny’s last few breaths struggled, the corpse leaned forward and kissed Danny’s forehead, wiping Danny’s bangs out of face before his murderer slowly stood up. Danny’s last cry was a gurgling noise as the corpse pulled its sharpened digits out of the teenager’s rib cage. His bones cracked and broke under the touch as his lungs stalled their life-giving force… His body was dying.

"Goodbye, Danny ... I'll take over now. And I won't steal your name, don't worry. Dan will work just fine," said the copy, his smile too wide, and his voice frighteningly familiar from a future that was never meant to be. 

_Ba Bum … the heart beat once._

The corpse’s flesh peeled away in a burst of flames, revealing the older version of Dan Phantom!

_Ba Bum … the heart beat twice._

The ghost's cold black eyes then turned to Vlad, his nails extending once more.

_Ba Bum … the heart beat three times._

The evil part of Danny laughed once more before plunging his claws into Vlad, likely ripping out his ghost half as well. Vlad wasn't even allowed to scream, the room bursting into fire just like his home. 

_Ba Ba Bum … and the heart beat no more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update. It's kind of a filler chapter. I'll admit it, but I also wanted to show Danny's fear of Dan. Plus, I'm a horror fan. What can I say? 
> 
> To the next chapter!


	10. In the Flesh

Danny woke up with a whimper, his spine going stiff as his arm ached in agony. It was another attack, but this one was dull and tingling. Nowhere near as painful as the others. It was still painful, but Danny was glad for it since it woke him from that horrible nightmare. At least he hoped it was a dream.

Besides himself, the teenager ran his fingers over his chest feeling for the gaping wound but thankfully nothing was there. He sighed deeply as his heart started to calm. That is until he heard a faint whisper, “_Danny_.”

He sat up straight, forgetting the ache in his arm. Praying that he was hearing things and that maybe it was just his imagination, the teenager whispered to himself, “I’m just hearing things.”

“_Hey, Danny_,” the whisper called out again as raindrops knocked against the windowpane.

The blankets were quickly drawn closer as the teenager’s chin, his eyes widened with fear. He searched the darkness glaring at every shadow that jumped in the frail light. A figure finally leaped out taking the form of a shadow-like being. Danny’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull as the teenager frantically whispered, “Just a dream. Just a dream. A dream … a dream … a dream!”

The whispers halted when the teenager finally closed his eyes, expecting an attack. When nothing happened, he popped one eye open and looked around. Nothing. It had merely been a trick of the shadows … or maybe it was those crappy meds that were presently stuck in his arm by an IV. Danny glared at the needle with distaste before he reached for the lamp on the nightstand. Its light would certainly chase away the shadows and the paranoia. 

And yet, before he could even touch the switch … it called out again.

“Danny …” the whispered voice choked out as a dark hand rose up from under the bed, grabbing the teenager by the wrist in order to stall the light. Before Danny could even scream out in protest, the hand gave a violent tug, pulling the ailing boy down onto the floor while ripping out his IV.

A dry yelp filled the room as Danny hit the floor. He couldn't see what grabbed him because of his blankets and so he flailed wildly like a newborn deer, the feel of blood dripping down his arm. He struggled even as he felt the figure sit down beside him as if trying to assist him.

The figure quickly gave up though when Danny tried to kick him or her, its voice squeaky and strangely familiar like an old memory, “Jeez Danny, when did you get so jumpy?”

Soon the blankets were removed by the neighboring body and Danny’s eyes filled with tears at the mere sight of the figure sitting next to him on the floor. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. He was still in the dream, wasn’t he?

“Tucker?”

“In the flesh… well sort of,” said his dead friend as he ran his hand through Danny’s nightstand, his features obviously ghostly.

Danny wiped the hot tears from his eyes and looked over his friend. Tucker’s clothes were charred and wrinkled, his hair was ruffled, and his glasses were cracked and blackened. He had a burnt look all about him which reflected his violent death.

Noticing Danny’s penetrating gaze, the dead teenager took off his glasses and tried to rub off the soot as if to improve his looks a little.

“Are you a ghost, Tucker?” asked Danny as he tried to wipe the blood from his arm. He didn’t care much for IVs, but the medicine might be the only reason he was seeing Tucker … because the other teenager might just be a hallucination.

Tucker quickly steered away from the question and directed his attention towards Danny's arm, “Are you sick? Is that why you’re in the hospital … or is this the loony bin? I always figured you’d go mad.”

Danny wiped the blood from his arm again, but it just kept bleeding so he merely ignored it as he murmured, “It’s my arm… it was badly burned and now I am having these attacks … from the chemicals in the fire apparently.”

The shame almost too much as he thought about the fire. And so, taking in a deep breath, it all spilled forward like a wave taking the beach. Danny long overdue for someone to speak to in confidence. His voice even broke through the whole confession, like a skipping record that was in need of replacement, "I'm sorry Tucker. I should have been strong enough to save all of you ... I couldn't even save myself. It's a fluke I survived at all ... I ... I can’t even go ghost to avenge any of you anymore."

Tucker winced as Danny sobbed at the end and, like only an old friend could, immediately forgave him. Though his touch was barely physical, a cool tugging at fabric as if he wasn't even really there, Tucker curled around his friend in an awkward hug. Then, carefully, the techno-geek whispered back, “Danny ... You tried to save us. I'm the one that should be sorry. I left you alone to deal with all this mess, and I wish I could stay and help with it ... but I only have so much time to tell you something important.”

“I don’t need your log in information, Tucker,” laughed-sobbed Danny, already feeling better that Tucker was here and not angry with him. 

“It’s not that … all my accounts were on a timer anyway," said Tucker as he pulled away, winking like it was an inside joke. "But Tell me Danny, are you doing okay? I know ... your parents didn't make it. Is your aunt taking you in? Are you going to become a hillbilly now?"

Danny laughed-sobbed again at the mental image ... though it did make him wonder: why hadn't his aunt fought for him? It was odd honestly. It was like she didn't even know that her sister was dead. Did she? He'd have to try and address the subject later with Vlad. 

Rubbing his eyes again, Danny slowly admitted, "No ... my godfather did ... Vlad Masters."

Tucker floated there for a moment, looking like he had just choked on his own tongue, “Really, the fruit loop?! You got to be kidding me. A guy is dead for a few short weeks and the world goes crazy.”

“Yeah … I know,” whispered the teenager as he readjusted himself into a far more comfortable sitting position, trying to sit as close as he could to his nearly incorporeal friend. "He legally adopted me too ... so there's that."

An awkward moment of silence hung in the air like neither of them knew what to say to that. So, Tucker sighed, apparently willing to take the plunge. 

"As I said, I actually came to warn you about something,” said Tucker, a tone of urgency in his voice that caused Danny to raise his head in question. “The demon and your attacks are linked. The place where that thing touched you, your arm that is, it’s … cursed. He's likely not done with you. So, I came back to warn you.”

The halfa's eyes drew away from Tucker and he glared at the raindrops hitting the windowpane for a moment. He didn't know if he should panic or, in some sick way, be grateful that he might not have to live with his guilt forever. It wasn't like he could defend himself right now anyway. And he sure wasn't going to ask Vlad. 

So, closing his eyes, Danny whispered, “I’m not surprised. My life from the point it touched me has been cursed. Every step I take, every turn, it's like the world wants to break me."

Sighing, part of his mind wondered if this was some kind of sick punishment ... for what he did as Dan Phantom in the future. Maybe, the world wanted to make sure he never became that villain and had set out to end him, to _punish_ him.

"I'm being punished, aren't I," asked Danny aloud, wondering if Tucker was some kind of omen that might know. "For what Dan Phantom did?"

Tucker looked at him confused, shaking his head, "No. Why would you be punished for what he did? Danny, this is all the demon's fault. In fact, do you know where he is? I need to know if you know."

"Of course it is! He _killed_ everyone and got away! He took everything! How is that not a punishment?” came a shouted reply from Danny, the boy snapping as he sprang to his feet, a lamp being knocked over in his haste. Said lamp landed heavily on the floor, sending hundreds of shards rushing across the floor like little glinting knives. The rain outside was suddenly pounding against the windowpane, thunder growling up in the heavens as lightning lit the shouting boy's form. 

“Why are you even here Tucker?! Are you are a reminder of my greatest failure? That I couldn't save you? Am I being punished twofold?! Well, I never want to remember!” cried Danny, his hands now shaking fists as all his emotions poured out, “Do the fates what you to rub it in? Do they want me to suffer before they end me too?"

Then, as quickly as the anger started, Danny's voice failed him and he started to sob, "Haven't I been punished enough?"

Tears dripped down Danny’s cheek by the end of the rant. The death of his family now flashing before his eyes with each lightning strike like his mind was taking a morbid collection of pictures. And those eyes, that damn monster’s black glistening eyes! Those eyes would forever haunt him ... Just like Dan's unyielding gaze. 

Danny’s voice remained a whisper, the dream still pressing into the back of his mind, “Tucker? Why did _everyone_ leave? Leave me all alone? Only I should have been punished. Only me." 

Standing there like a lifeless puppet for what felt like an eternity, Danny continued to stare as he waited for an answer. He didn't get one from Tucker though, because soon Vlad's expensive shoes were sliding into the room.

“Daniel?! What's wrong? I heard shouting down the hall,” came a rushed reply, the billionaire taking in every detail from the sniffling boy, the vase all over the floor, to the bleeding arm where his IV was supposed to be. 

Not knowing what to say, Danny started to sob-laugh ... when he noticed Tucker wasn't there anymore. Had he ever been there or was he finally going crazy? 

Obviously unnerved by the choked laughing, the billionaire carefully walked across the glass on the floor, the shards crunching under his shoes. His touch was weary, careful as he directed the teenager to sit down on the bed, "Here, sit down. There's glass all over the floor. We don't need you stepping in it."

The laugh-sobbing, thankfully, calmed down into hiccups when the teenager sat down. Not know what else to do, except for lookup prominent psychiatrists when he got home, Vlad sat down carefully next to the teenager, grabbing a few tissues before offering it to the younger halfa.

Danny looked confused before Vlad added, "For your arm and eyes. I'll call a nurse in once you calm down."

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve instead, Danny wadded the tissue up onto his arm. The silence that followed was unnerving before Vlad sighed next to him, carefully asking, "What happen? Was it a nightmare?" 

Swallowing thickly, part of his mind still wondering if he had imagined Tucker, Danny confessed, “I … just didn't want to remember.”

Frowning, Vlad reached over carefully and squeezed Danny's shoulder, "Little badger, it's not healthy to repress things. I would know. I sent more than one psychologists' kid to college learning that for myself. Its best just to get it out if you can. Now, what do you not want to remember?”

Hating the older halfa for being so comforting, Danny tried to say something. Instead, his breathing became rapid and uneven as he struggled to find the right words. The tears had returned as well. He wanted to say something, anything to explain his behavior, but he couldn’t even move his mouth right. The only sound that escaped him was a pathetic whine. The whole recollection of the fire was passing over him in such grotesque detail that the next thing he knew ... he was leaning over the bed and puking over Vlad's fancy shoes. 

Vlad's eye twitched and Danny immediately was mortified ... but at the same time, he felt a little better. 

"S-sorry, Vlad. It ... just came out," whispered Danny as he wiped his mouth, part of him wanting to crawl under the sheets and die. 

Grimacing again, Vlad just patted him twice on the shoulder, "It's okay, Daniel. Do you at least feel better?"

Cheeks flushing, Danny wilted under the hand on his shoulder, "Yes."

“Wanna give me an idea of what happened?” asked Vlad again as he tried not to look down at his shoes mournfully. 

Pulling his knees up, knowing Vlad deserved some kind of answer after ruining his fancy shoes, Danny mumbled, "Tucker ... was here and he asked me. I told him I didn't want to remember."

“Tucker?” An image of the techno-geek flashed in Vlad's mind and the billionaire spoke with caution. “ … Your friend who died in the fire?”

"Yes," said Danny, pointing to the corner where Tucker had been, "Tucker came back. He's a ghost or something now. He was ... over there."

The words died in his throat as he turned to look where Tucker had been. The area really was empty. Danny felt his throat tighten, "We got into a fight and ... I-I yelled at him. I didn't mean to yell. I was just so ... upset. Maybe he's still here. I should look."

Yet, before his feet could hit the floor full of glass shards, Vlad pulled him back by the elbow, the older halfa calmly stating, "There’s no one else here Daniel. It's just the two of us ... My ghost senses aren't even picking anything up."

Danny blinked up at him, his stomach sinking further. Maybe he really had imaged Tucker.

Seeing the teenager's horrified expression, Masters calmly stood up and lifted the boy's sheets, "Why don't you lie back down, Daniel. It was probably just a dream or one of your medications might be bothering you. I’m just going to quickly find the night doctor. Just … lay back down."

Vlad's shoes were then crushing glass underfoot as he headed to the door, leaving Danny sitting on his bed. Besides himself, Danny dared whisper aloud, "Tucker ... were you just a figment of my imagination?"

No one was there to answer.

…

Elsewhere, Smith sat in the dark recesses of his office listening to the rain pound against the large window behind him. A small golden box with Greek writing rested on his lap. His manicured nails tapped on the lid almost playful as if he was waiting. A burst of light filled the room ... but it didn't fade like the lightning outside. A small violet orb had entered the room, carrying a chorus of whispers behind it. It circled around the space twice and then came to rest an inch above the golden box, turning Smith's features purple with its light.

Smith smiled at its entrance and spoke to the orb softly, “Did you enjoy your freedom my little spirit?”

Whispers sang from the orb in an excited chorus as it jumped about the box like a playful child.

“I see,” said the lawyer as a sad smile spread across his lips. “Now tell me what he told you.”

The whispers erupted from the golfball-sized orb again. Smith closed his eyes catching and understanding every word. Only once the whispers had ceased did his golden eyes open, the man glaring down at the box.

“Very good my little rift. Now into the box with you,” chimed Smith as he opened the ominous box, an unearthly wail escaping it. The orb’s whispers quickly became distressed as it tried to fly away, but an unknown wind sucked the poor little orb inside with a screech.

Surprisingly, Smith’s smile was gone, his voice almost woeful, “Sorry little one. I can’t have you turning like the others. The box is the best place for you. Who knows when I will need you again.”

…

Dr. Webking looked over the sleeping teenager as Vlad sat in a corner chair, tapping his fingers in a most irritating fashion.

Tap ... Tap ... Tap … Tap

The doctor stalled in his work to glare at the tapping fingers. His nerves were on end. He had come into work three hours early because Masters wouldn’t leave the night shift alone. Never satisfied that man was.

Rubbing his brow, telling himself that Vlad's donations were helping update the children's ward for the hospital, he turned to the billionaire and simply said, "From what we can tell, there's nothing wrong with his medication. From what you described, it likely was a nightmare, Mr. Masters. Not entirely unexpected given Danny's trauma."

“A nightmare?” said Vlad, unconvinced. "He was having a screaming match with his dead friend. I heard it all the way down the hall." Danny shifted slightly in his bed forcing Vlad to drop his voice. "That is a level above simple nightmare."

The doctor frowned, nodding, "I understand your concern, but from one incident that's all I can conclude. I mean, it might have been a night terror, but Danny is a bit too old to be having those."

Vlad gave him a glowering glance, obviously dissatisfied. 

Clearing his throat, Dr. Webking continued, "But, given his trauma with the fire, a psychologist can help him deal with the strain. He can speak to the hospital's psychologists, of course, but you should find someone for him to speak to once you get him home.”

“And how much longer away is that?" asked Vlad with a tint of irritation. He had wanted to go home days ago with Daniel because, personally, he couldn’t take this hospital anymore. The white everything, the disinfectant, and the bathroom stalls that smelled like ammonia and old lady perfume disturbed him like old memories. He wanted to leave … but that wasn’t going to happen. For all he knew the next few years would be filled with nothing but hospital visits.

“Sooner than you think, Mr. Masters,” said Webking, almost relieved. "I was able to contact a colleague in your area that was willing to take on Danny's case, Dr. Monroe. She agrees that the attacks are a reaction to a chemical that entered the wound during the fire and has a number of pill regiments set up in case the current one does not work."

“Dr. Monroe? Pill regiment? Daniel needs something done now. These attacks could be killing him," growled Vlad, caring little if his angry voice stirred the boy again, which he doubted. Danny was given some pills to help him sleep after the Tucker incident. 

Placing a hand up, Webking almost pleaded, “Please hear me out. Dr. Monroe said that it is uncertain what chemicals entered the wound. There were so many chemical traces found in the fire and we have no idea of knowing what experiments the Fentons were doing. Thus, prescribing the wrong medicine will be more harmful than helpful. So, at this point, we find it best to only recommend medication changes as needed. A bad reaction could be just as harmful as an attack."

Vlad groaned and started to rub his temples. “It sounds like we are just guessing at this point."

Frowning, not knowing what else to say, Webking soberly admitted, "In a way, we are. There's no way of telling what chemicals the Fentons had in their home."

Closing his eyes, Vlad cursed Jack's name in his head. Why were the lab and the living area so close? He should have known better. Honestly, Maddie should have known better. And, for the first time in forever, Vlad actually found himself somewhat mad at her. 


End file.
